


Open

by domini_moonbeam



Category: 19天 - Old先 | 19 Days - Old Xian
Genre: Angst, Attempted Sexual Assault, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Open Relationships, Past Abuse, Polyamory, Romance, Sex, Switching, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2020-03-10 03:32:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 63,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18930424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/domini_moonbeam/pseuds/domini_moonbeam
Summary: Jian Yi chewed his lower lip and then threw his arms over his face, unable to look at Zhengxi if he was going to say it. “It was so… rough. Mo was making this sound… and He Tian had him like pinned down and it was all just… NO!”Zhengxi stared at him, unimpressed. “You’re such a wuss.”Jian Yi whined through his arms.“How many times have we had sex?” Zhengxi asked. It was meant to be rhetorical.“Two-hundred forty-six and half times,” the pervert answered.Zhengxi gaped, first pissed and then confused. “How the hell is there a half?”-I have PLANS! Okay, I'm totally planning to get all four of them romantically entangled in all directions until they're just one big sexy knot of love.There will be drama and action and smut. If more tags/warnings come up, I'll add them before the chapters.





	1. Chapter 1

Jian Yi had not meant to peep.

It was almost impossible not to, considering they all lived in an apartment together and He Tian and Mo Guan Shan had left their bedroom door open.

He had just showered and was on his way back to his room when he heard that low, whimpering sound—like someone was hurt. It sent chills down his spine and before he could think better of it, he was inching down the hall, toward the partly open door. A part of his brain screamed not to look, not to get closer—to fucking run.

The whimpering had a breathless element to it and when he reached the doorway he heard another voice moaning and the sound of flesh against flesh and the thudding of the mattress mashing rhythmically against the wall. Jian Yi held his breath, his own dick jumping when that smaller head recognized what he hadn’t yet let his larger brain register.

His eyes adjusted to the dark, to the shadows inside, and he stared at the couple on the bed. Mo Guan Shan was face down, He Tian’s hand pressing down on the back of his neck to keep him pinned there. Mo Guan Shan was making the choking, whimpering sounds, clawing at the bed and squirming like he was trying to get away, but He Tian kept him where he was, almost seeming to crush him, his hips beating a steady but ruthless pace as he thrust against his ass again and again.

Jian Yi hadn’t taken a breath for so long that his lungs burned, eyes tearing up.

And then Mo Guan Shan turned his head and for one horrific moment their eyes locked. The redhead’s mouth opened, sucking a long, shuddering breath—his red eyes glazed and his cheeks pink—and none of it had anything to do with finding Jian Yi watching them.

Jian Yi stumbled back, almost falling when he hurried back down the hall and into his own room, closing the door and gasping for air.

Zhengxi looked up, sprawled on their bed and holding a book up over his face to read. His eyes narrowed on Jian Yi—his boyfriend flushed and teary-eyed. “The fuck happened to you?”

Jian Yi whined, darting for the bed and diving over Zhengxi to burrow under the comforter on the other side of him.

Zhengxi gaped. “Put on some damned underwear at least, you lazy asshole!”

Jian Yi had forgotten he was just in a towel—that now lost in the covers. “We have to move!” he yelled from under the blankets.

Zhengxi groaned and fished out the damp towel from their bed, hurling it into the hamper and giving the lump next to him a kick. “What are you talking about?”

“I saw them!” Jian Yi wailed. “He Tian is terrifying! We can’t live with them.”

Zhengxi put down his book and rolled onto his side. He grabbed a fistful of the blankets and jerked them down to expose Jian Yi’s face. His cheeks were pink and his eyes teary. He really did look freaked out. “What do you mean? Saw them doing what?”

“ _It_ …” Jian Yi whispered dramatically.

Zhengxi blinked at him. “First of all—you pervert.”

“It was an accident!”

“Second—you know they fuck. You’re the one that keeps suggesting we swing with them.”

Jian Yi’s eyes widened and he looked honestly terrified. “Never!”

Zhengxi raised an eyebrow. “I literally have at least a dozen text messages from you about it. And you sent me a picture of you and Mo tonguing yesterday…”

“I didn’t!” he demanded, legs kicking once under the covers like he could simply will truth to be different. That was Jian Yi. He’d just change facts if Zhengxi let him.

“Seriously, what’s the about?” Zhengxi asked, losing interest.

“I saw them!” he almost yelled before clamping a hand over his own mouth.

“And?”

He chewed his lower lip and then threw his arms over his face, unable to look at Zhengxi if he was going to say it. “It was so… _rough_. Mo was making this sound… and He Tian had him like pinned down and it was all just… NO!”

Zhengxi stared at him, unimpressed. “You’re such a wuss.”

Jian Yi whined through his arms.

“How many times have we had sex?” Zhengxi asked. It was meant to be rhetorical.

“Two-hundred forty-six and half times,” the pervert answered.

Zhengxi gaped, first pissed and then confused. “How the hell is there a half?”

Jian Yi groaned and flopped his arms down to stare up at Zhengxi. “I don’t usually count hand-jobs or blow-jobs but we sixty-nined that time and I feel like that has to count for something…”

Zhengxi smacked his forehead. “You’re being dumb.”

Jian Yi whined and held his forehead, even though it hadn’t really hurt, and pouted. “It wasn’t like when we have sex. It was…angry.”

Zhengxi thought about that for a second before sighing and nodding. It made some sense, didn’t it? He Tian and Mo were violent people. They didn’t hit each other like they had back when they were kids but they liked to push boundaries. “Listen, it’s not like you have to fuck He Tian. You don’t have to fuck anyone ever,” Zhengxi hated that he had to say things like this but he wouldn’t leave to chance that Jian Yi was dumb enough not to realize it. He’d have to kill He Tian then and that would be a lot of work. “You are literally the one flirting with everyone else in this house. If you don’t want to, just stop.”

Jian Yi was quiet for a long time, like maybe Zhengxi had gotten through to him.

“We should move,” he mumbled.

Zhengxi raised an eyebrow curiously. “You liked it.”

Jian Yi turned red. “No!”

“That’s why you’re all freaked out… He Tian turned you on, didn’t he?” Zhengxi prodded.

Jian Yi protested but Zhengxi pulled the covers down and off him, leaving him naked and so very exposed. He leaned over him, hand sliding down his bare stomach until he was palming his hardon. Jian Yi whined, but thrust gently into the grip, face red and turning into Zhengxi’s shoulder like he could hide himself.

They weren’t exactly an open relationship, but they’d toyed with the idea. Jian Yi had been the one pushing it. And if it was He Tian and Mo Guan Shan, Zhengxi wouldn’t mind. They had all been close since they were in high school, moving into an apartment together when they left home for university. He wasn’t sure he’d trust anyone else with Jian Yi. Sure, his idiot boyfriend got into a lot of fights and could throw a good punch, but he was emotionally defenseless and way too naïve. He liked to flirt, mostly with Zhengxi, but even in their relationship, Zhengxi had had to make all the big moves. Jian Yi would flirt and run. He was bold when he was sure he’d get shut down, but when Zhengxi had stopped shutting him down, he’d frozen up. Even now, years into the physical part of their relationship, he still got shy sometimes. Like now, his face pushed into Zhengxi’s shirt like he could hide the blush moving down his neck.

“Do you want me to be rough with you?” Zhengxi asked, voice low, mouth near Jian Yi’s ear. He was still stroking him, slow and warm.

Jian Yi shivered but shook his head. “Please don’t…” he whispered, and it was almost heartbreaking, almost worrying. If Zhengxi hadn’t been there for his whole damn life, he would have panicked that something had happened to him. But this was Jian Yi overthinking. Wasn’t it? His mind raced back, trying to remember every possible moment they weren’t together—every opportunity someone else might have had to fuck things up. Nope. Nothing.

“You’re such a baby…” he said with a small smile and got up long enough to strip and flick off the overhead light, the small lamp by the bed still glowing. Jian Yi lay there, naked and twitching, chewing his lower lip and hiding his face under the curve of one arm again.

Zhengxi hesitated by the bedside table, looking at Jian Yi again. This wasn’t really weird behavior for him. He got embarrassed about his own wants sometimes. Usually Zhengxi would just take the lead, fuck him until they were both spent and all embarrassment forgotten. But he really did seem freaked out about his feelings over seeing He Tian and Mo. “Do you want me to fuck you or blow you?” he asked this time, suddenly not wanting to cross a line—a line he hadn’t realized was there. He’d always trusted himself to know Jian Yi, and that included if he was into it or not.

Zhengxi had asked why he got so embarrassed when they were fucking before—several times—until Jian Yi finally admitted that sex was okay when it was a joke, when it was all talk and almosts and maybes, but when it got real…he felt ashamed. It took Zhengxi years before Jian Yi confessed that his mother used to call him a slut and tell him stories about what happened to sluts. He wouldn’t tell Zhengxi the stories or anything more than that—and he’d always worried there _had_ been more abuse than just the stories.

Jian Yi let out a thin whine, like Zhengxi was torturing him by making him say it. He was, but that wasn’t why he was asking tonight. “F-Fuck me, just… do it like you do it… Not like… Not mean.” He mumbled into the curve of his elbow.

Zhengxi rolled his eyes but smiled, taking the lube from the bedside table and crawling back onto the bed to lay beside him, on his side. He flicked his arm off his face. “Knock that off. You’re so fucking dramatic…”

“But you love me?” he whispered, biting his bottom lip, eyes red-rimmed with tears and so many raw emotions.

Zhengxi nodded, not even pretending he had to think about it. He nudged Jian Yi’s legs apart with his knee and poured some of the lube onto his finger, rubbing them together before kissing his boyfriend and sliding his hand down below his aching sex to the cleft of his ass. Jian Yi jumped, moan caught against Zhengxi’s lips when he slid the first finger into him.

“Tell me what else you saw when you peeped on them…” Zhengxi prodded, being a little cruel this time, but curious to see what it would do to Jian Yi.

He whined, clutching at Zhengxi’s shoulder. “I-I didn’t mean to peep…” he mumbled weakly.

Zhengxi continued to pump his finger inside him, adding a second and moaning darkly at how Jian Yi gasped and arched a little into his chest.

“Mo-Mo was holding on to the-to the sheets…” he whispered breathily, choking on his own saliva when Zhengxi added a third finger, still moving them in even, steady strokes. Jian Yi’s cock twitched, hard as ever, so talking about what he saw definitely wasn’t having a negative effect on his arousal. “The bed was thumping against the wall…”

“Why was it thumping against the wall?” Zhengxi asked, voice low, head tipped down to watch all the agonizing details of Jian Yi’s expressions.

He whimpered, arms curling up and over his head to tangle his fingers in the pillowcase. “Please…” he begged quietly, hips rocking into Zhengxi’s hand.

“Tell me first,” Zhengxi asked.

Jian Yi opened his mouth and then closed it, swallowing hard before answering. “He Tian was-was fucking him so hard it was moving the bed…”

Zhengxi moaned lowly. He wasn’t usually interested in anyone but Jian Yi—he didn’t even like being touched casually let alone intimately—but hearing Jian Yi describe their friends, in that voice, eyes hazy and mouth open to pant, was inescapably hot.

Zhengxi shifted over him, sliding his fingers out of his ass and lifting one of his legs, bending it against his side as he positioned himself.

Jian Yi jumped under him, hands suddenly on his sides and fingers pressing hot against his skin. Those strange, pale eyes stared up at him—a flash of fear. “D-Don’t hurt me,” he whispered.

Zhengxi shivered, face dipping down to kiss his best-friend—long and slow. He didn’t move his hips, didn’t push into his body yet, the other man’s hands still clutching at his sides nervously. “Jian Yi, have I ever hurt you?” He immediately thought of all the times he’d punched him as a kid, and the few times he’d almost broken his heart. “Like this,” he added.

Jian Yi’s grip on his sides loosened. “No…”

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, completely serious, because he would.

“No,” Jian Yi whined.

Zhengxi almost smile at the frustration in the idiot’s voice. “Then let go, so I can be inside you.”

Jian Yi almost convulsed under him at those words, mind melting. It wasn’t often Zhengxi said things like that. He let go of his sides and gripped the sheets beside his hips. Zhengxi pushed against him and Jian Yi gasped when his body began to take him in. Zhengxi moved slowly, sinking deeper and deeper until Jian Yi thought he’d scream. One hand flew to his face, smothering himself and trying to hide how much he loved it.

Zhengxi bottomed out, stayed there for a second, and then started moving. It wasn’t exactly gentle but he wasn’t rough. He took Jian Yi’s hand away from his face and locked their fingers together, holding his hand against the pillow so he couldn’t hide behind it—couldn’t smother his sounds. Jian Yi let out little gasps every time he sunk into him, moans he held impossibly tight rattling inside his chest as he arched and panted.

Even when the apartment was completely empty, and there was no one down the hall that might hear his sounds, Jian Yi still tried to be as quiet as possible, almost choking on his sounds.

Zhengxi slid his other hand down between them and wrapped his fingers around Jian Yi’s handon, stroking him in time with his own thrusts now, building faster when Jian Yi’s breaths picked up into tighter and tighter gasps. Zhengxi wouldn’t come first. If he did, Jian Yi might never get there, the whole thing suddenly too much about his own arousal. What a headcase his idiot was. But Zhengxi loved every inch of him, every bit of drama and crazy and stupid. He was perfect. He was his whole world.

“Come on,” he whispered, forehead to forehead, hips rocking into him. Jian Yi looked like he was fighting his orgasm, trying not to like it. “Open your eyes,” Zhengxi said.

Jian Yi whined but opened his eyes, staring up at him through the haze and instantly crashing over the edge of his orgasm, cumming on his own chest and arching. His whole body convulsed and twitched.

Zhengxi shivered, another two hard thrusts and he followed him. While their heartbeats returned to normal, they stayed like that, curled against each other, panting. Zhengxi thumbed the hair from Jian Yi’s face. “Still want to move out?”

Jian Yi’s eyes were half lidded, sleepy and sated. He chewed his lip though, still a little worried, but shook his head—blush now only on his cheeks. Zhengxi kissed him again before pulling out and getting up to grab a towel and clean them up. Afterward, he tossed Jian Yi a pair of his brightly colored boxer briefs and then unlocked their door and slipped out into the hall.

The shower was on, but the bathroom door was half open, so Zhengxi walked in. “I’m taking a piss,” he told whoever was in the shower.

The curtain pulled back and Mo leaned around it. He looked Zhengxi over from head to toe, considering every naked inch of him but expression giving nothing away. Zhengxi stared back, just as impassively. Mo shrugged once and Zhengxi turned, lifted the toilet seat and peed.

“He okay?” the redhead asked, voice low like he didn’t want He Tian or Jian Yi to hear.

“Why wouldn’t he be?” He wasn’t even a hundred-percent sure which of their boyfriends Mo was talking about.

“I know he saw.”

Zhengxi froze for a second and then shook himself and flushed. He paused at the sink, glanced at the half open door and then at the shower and Mo Guan Shan. And then he did something he’d never done. “Mind if I jump in real quick?” he asked, nudging his chin toward the shower curtain.

Mo blinked at him, surprised and then shrugged again, taking a step back into the corner of the shower. Zhengxi stepped over the little lip of tile floor ringing the shower and pulled the curtain shut.

Mo stayed in the corner, naked and watching him uncertainly.

They’d all seen each other naked plenty, but this had definitely never happened before. Zhengxi rinsed off in the shower like it was completely normal for them to bathe together.

“Is he okay?” Mo asked, sounding honestly worried now.

Zhengxi looked at him again, head tipping to the side and running his gaze over Mo’s body. He had bruises, but nothing worrisome—nothing in the shape of a hand or bigger than a coin. And Mo was kind of a rough person.

Mo crossed his arms, shifting anxiously under that scrutiny. “Tell him I’m not mad or anything that he was watching. He Tian wouldn’t be either.”

“He doesn’t know?”

“No. I wasn’t sure if it would make Jian Yi more embarrassed. He looked…weird.”

Zhengxi huffed a breath, giving no real response, and got out the shower. He stole Mo’s towel and walked out of the bathroom. “Good night.”

“What the fuck!” the redhead shouted from the bathroom.

Zhengxi was down the hall to his own door when He Tian came out of the other room, probably reacting to Mo shouting in the shower.

He paused, looking at Zhengxi—naked and wet and holding a towel. He Tian raised an eyebrow questioningly, a small smile pulling at one corner of his mouth. Zhengxi shrugged once and started rubbing Mo’s towel in his wet hair.

“That fucker stole my towel!” Mo shouted. He Tian laughed richly and disappeared into the bathroom, closed the door behind himself.

 


	2. Coffee Conversations

Mo Guan Shan sat in the living room with his bowl of leftovers reheated from last night. He leaned back into the couch with his feet on the coffee table. The coffee machine in the open kitchen to the right had turned on. Zhengxi had programmed it back when they bought it, and someone always filled it at night so it was ready to go off in the morning. Mo didn’t know who did that, he just knew it wasn’t him.

They’d been living together for a couple years now. Jian Yi and He Tian didn’t really need roommates but they’d been the happiest about the idea—the ones that really pushed to crowd in on Zhengxi’s new apartment. He’d only mentioned once looking for ONE roommate. Somehow, within a month, all four of them had been living here. Mo definitely wasn’t going to complain. There had been times when he barely had enough money to eat, let alone pay rent. Luckily, he’d gotten away from that. He had a couple part time jobs, one of which was a modeling gig He Tian had hooked up a year ago—he’d only done a few shoots, but they paid enough for him to stretch months of rent and food out of each. He didn’t worry about not pulling his weight anymore, not like he had in the beginning.

He made food and they acted like it was magic. He going to culinary school, with vague dreams of opening his own ramen shop—one of those small places with only like ten seats and liquor.

Just when the coffee was making its final sounds, a door opened and closed and Jian Yi came down the hall, straight for the smell of caffeine.

Mo ate and watched the other man skeptically. “Are you upset?” he asked, mouth still full.

Jian Yi jumped, almost dropping the mug he’d just pulled from the cupboard. He blinked at Mo and then his eyes widened—seeming to remember the night before all at once. “No,” he snapped out.

Mo groaned and rolled his eyes. “Liar. What’s your problem? I told Xi to tell you I’m not pissed.”

“What? Oh. Yeah. Yeah. It’s fine.”

Mo raised an eyebrow, not impressed, but continued to eat his breakfast. He and Jian Yi had become close the last couple years. Jian Yi had been incredibly annoying in the beginning, almost unbearable, and then at some point all the things that were bad about him became all the things he liked about him.

He watched him pour his coffee, filling the mug all the way to the brim and then having to lean over and slurp some of it up so he could lift it without spilling.

“Do you have school today?” Mo asked.

“No.”

“Cool. You coming to the party tonight?”

Jian Yi hesitated, holding his cup in both hands. “Um…”

Mo groaned. He really as being weird. “Get me a cup of coffee?” he asked.

Jian Yi blinked and then nodded. “Oh. Yeah. Of course…” he rambled, putting down his coffee. Yep. He was being weird. He would usually tell him to get his own, then come over and they’d trade Mo’s bowel for Jian Yi’s coffee.

He Tian came down the hall, stealthy as a damned cat as usual, and drawn by the smell of coffee. He came up right behind Jian Yi, taller than him and reaching in the same direction for a mug. For a second, they were an inch apart and in identical positions. “Morning, princess,” He Tian purred, always wide awake first thing in the morning.

They usually exchanged shallow flirtations—lots of soft words and winks. Mo was pretty sure it had started in a childish effort to make himself and Xi jealous. It hadn’t worked. And since then, his own flirtations with Mo had turned into making out, lots of lewd comments, and sending suggestive pictures. THAT had made He Tian jealous more than anything else—that Mo would send dirty texts and photos to Jian Yi but not him. It was too embarrassing to send to He Tian. It wasn’t the same thing.

But, despite years of established sweet flirtations, Jian Yi jumped like a ghost was behind him today. He dropped the mug he’d just grabbed and tried to spin around in the small space between He Tian’s hips and the counter—jamming his hip against said counter and then smacking his forehead against the cabinet.

He Tian let out a laugh that tangled with a “wow”, eyes wide with surprise.

Mo’s heart sank, eyes narrowing. Was that why he was being weird? He’d thought Jian Yi was embarrassed about getting caught watching them fuck last night. He hadn’t thought he was… uncomfortable?

He Tian grabbed Jian Yi’s elbow to steady him, leaning over to get a look at his head. He wasn’t bleeding and they’d all seen Jian Yi do worse.

He sucked a breath and pulled his arm free of He Tian’s hold, ducking around him.

He Tian’s smile fell away to confusion.

“I-I gotta get ready for class!” Jian Yi blurted out.

Mo frowned, dropping his spoon into his forgotten breakfast. “You don’t have class today.”

“I gotta… Get ready…” he trailed disappearing down the hallway past Zhengxi—who had finally left his room.

He Tian stared down the hall and then turned to look at Mo. “What the hell was that about?”

Mo wrinkled his nose, not sure he knew but knowing he knew more than He Tian. How to say it?

“He saw you fucking MoMo last night and it scared him,” Zhengxi said bluntly, joining He Tian in the kitchen and picking up the cup of coffee Jian Yi had abandoned.

 

* * *

 

He Tian stared at Zhengxi for a second, mind catching up. He went over what he and Mo had done last night, but the word kept tripping him up. _Scared_. Jian Yi was _scared_? “Why?”

Mo got up, setting his half-eaten breakfast bowl on the kitchen counter before disappearing down the hall, into Jian Yi’s room.

Zhengxi sipped his coffee, leaning against the counter and watching He Tian. “From what I hear it was…rough?”

He Tian would have laughed at that. He remembered very clearly how last night with Mo had gone and it was far from their strangest or roughest. But it definitely hadn’t been gentle and none of that mattered if Jian Yi was…scared. He chewed his lip. “Why would he be scared? Mo’s fine. I didn’t…” He didn’t like this.

Zhengxi shrugged, putting his coffee down and picking up Mo’s breakfast. “How should I know? I didn’t see it.”

He Tian shot him a scowl but wasn’t sure what to say. After another awkward second, he grabbed the mug he’d set down and poured his coffee. Jian Yi had jumped, _really jumped_ , when he came up behind him. “I wouldn’t do anything to Jian Yi he didn’t want,” he found himself defending.

“But you would do something to him if he wanted to?” Zhengxi asked casually, in that perfectly blunt and bored way he had somehow perfected without trying. “All jokes about flirting aside.”

He Tian took a slow drink of his coffee and then looked at his friend thoughtfully. They’d been casually dancing around the idea of swapping and foursomes and whatever since they moved in together—maybe before that even. Were they having the serious conversation about it now? Standing in the kitchen? Just the two of them?

“Yeah,” He Tian said slowly. “Mo and I have talked about it. We’re not generally open but if it was you and Jian Yi… then yeah.”

Zhengxi nodded, still unreadable. “Rules? Do all of us have to be present? Does it always have to be all four of us participating? Who fucks who…”

He Tian smiled then, more than a little impressed Zhengxi could say all that with that blank stare of his while sipping coffee. “I’d say we’d let things happen organically. At least, for Mo and I, we don’t both need to be involved or present. I mean, nothing’s a secret, of course, but I’d trust you or Jian Yi with Mo even if I wasn’t there and I know he feels the same.”

“You’ve talked about it in detail?”

“Yes. Have you and Jian Yi?”

“He talked about it a lot the last couple months.”

He Tian’s heart sank. “But now he’s scared of me?”

Zhengxi shrugged. “He’s also attracted to you, but if you two are going to sleep together, I’d like to be there. The first time, at least.” He looked up from his coffee then, that impassive mask thinning for a moment, a flicker of worry. “It’s not that I don’t trust you or anything.”

“Are you sure about that?” He Tian asked, more hurt than he’d like to admit.

Zhengxi took a step closer. “Jian Yi gets shy.”

He Tian laughed darkly. “You don’t have to make things up. We should just be honest—”

“He’s shy,” Zhengxi said again. “It’s like he gets all twisted up, especially when it’s something new or when he’s really… _interested_. If you guys never get there, that’s fine, but I’m just saying, don’t try to fuck him when I’m not there.”

He Tian considered what he said carefully. Zhengxi chose his words thoughtfully and he wasn’t prone to lying. “What about everything _except_ actually fucking?” he asked, more curious to hear the answer.

Zhengxi smiled and put his coffee cup to his mouth again, too late to hide it. “Good luck.”

He Tian groaned. “Why is he scared?”

Zhengxi laughed. “You’re scary, I guess. Or he’s a wuss. Or both…” He turned away, about to go back to the room and check on Jian Yi.

He Tian reached out on impulse and caught Zhengxi’s arm. He froze. They almost never touched. Really, Zhengxi wasn’t touchy. He turned and looked back at him, not shaking the hand off his arm, so He Tian left it there a little longer. “What about you and me?”

Zhengxi raised an eyebrow.

“I assume you’re interested in Mo… You did jump into his shower last night.”

“I wanted to get a look at him. Jian Yi said you were rough, and that’s fine, I’m sure whatever you two do is consensual, but I wanted to get an idea for myself how rough Jian Yi’s idea of “rough” was.” He quirked a smile. “He really is squeamish for a guy that gets beat up as often as he has…”

He Tian felt like this was the longest and most important conversation they’d ever had and hadn’t missed that Zhengxi still hadn’t shaken off his hand. “Doesn’t really answer my question.”

Zhengxi looked up at him, those eyes unreadable. “You want to fuck me?”

He Tian laughed once and shrugged, letting go of Zhengxi’s arm and leaning back against the counter. “Or you could fuck me.”

A flicker of surprise stole across Zhengxi’s expression. “Seriously?”

He Tian wasn’t sure if he should take offense. “I like sex. I don’t mind being the one getting fucked, I’m just better at being the one doing the fucking.” He put his coffee down on the counter. “Can you and I be bluntly honest with each other? So, this all works out. No bullshit. No lies.”

Zhengxi frowned. “What have we been doing so far?”

He Tian nodded, good enough for him. “You usually cringe away when people touch you or brush against you. You’re really good at walking through a crowd without bumping into anyone. Are you pushing yourself into a physical relationship with me and Little Mo because you know it’s what Jian Yi wants?”

Zhengxi froze, expressionless again.

He Tian’s heart sank. He and Mo had talked about a lot of aspects of this idea and this had been their common worry. Zhengxi wasn’t a liar. But they both knew he’d do absolutely anything for Jian Yi. “We could figure something else out if that’s the case. We both like you. We’re both attracted to you. But more than that we’re your friends and we would hate to do anything with you that you weren’t comfortable with.”

A part of He Tian tried to imagine Mo having this conversation—if Zhengxi had approached him to make these terms and decisions. It would have been hilarious but fruitless. He would have been red-faced and probably yelling.

Finally, Zhengxi gave a short nod, like he understood. And He Tian held his breath, waiting to see if he’d actually say that he wasn’t interested or if he’d just leave it at that.

“I don’t like being touched by people I don’t care about and trust,” he confessed and He Tian nodded slowly. He wouldn’t take offense. He would just accept whatever Zhengxi’s reasons were. That was how sex worked, as far as he was concerned. No guilting. No arguing or negotiating. If Zhengxi wasn’t interested, then he just wasn’t. Rejection was a thousand times better than finding out later he’d crossed a line and done something that wasn’t wanted. That would ruin their friendship and He Tian didn’t have a lot of friends he cared for the way he did Zhengxi and Jian Yi.

Zhengxi took a step closer, the last step between them. He put his coffee down on the counter and it clanked against He Tian’s.

He Tian looked at him, curious.

And then Zhengxi leaned up and kissed He Tian. It was solid, with a little tongue, and then it was gone. His mouth was surprisingly plush and he tasted like his coffee.

He Tian’s mind reeled, going over what Zhengxi had just said. He didn’t like touching people he didn’t care about and trust. He felt suddenly warm.

Zhengxi slid back, coffee cup in hand again. “I have to get ready for class,” he said in that even, bored tone of his, disappearing down the hall.

He Tian watched him go, smiling slowly. Zhengxi had kissed him. They had laid down ground rules for their relationships and everything was surprisingly easy. Or at least, it was in theory. He sipped his coffee absently, thoughts far away but smile still there in the corner of his mouth.


	3. Questions

Mo Guan Shan left the living room and followed Jian Yi into his room leaving Zhengxi and He Tian talking in the kitchen.

He didn’t knock, throwing the door open.

Jian Yi jumped and spun around, his wide-eyed expression draining away into mild worry. God, he wore all of his thoughts right there on his beautiful-stupid face! “What the hell!” Mo spat, taking one step in and letting the door swing shut behind him.

Jian Yi chewed his lip and went back to getting dressed, pulling up a pair of jeans and digging around in a drawer of Zhengxi’s t-shirts. “What? I have things to do today…”

“You never have things to do,” Mo pointed out. “Xi says you’re scared.”

Jian Yi spun around again, a t-shirt in hand and his pale jeans still open, showing some of that pink pineapple print underwear of his. Where did he even buy those? “He told?” His voice was quiet and strained, like a child betrayed.

Mo stalked closer, took a breath and reminded himself who he was dealing with. This wasn’t He Tian—yelling and screaming wouldn’t work, and Jian Yi could out drama him any day of the week. “Xi doesn’t lie.”

Jian Yi looked down at the shirt in his hands, long fingers twisting in the material. “No. I. I’m not. I just.”

“What scared you? Did you think…” Mo’s voice had gone low, almost a whisper. He took a deep breath and sighed. He wouldn’t even have this conversation with anyone else—wouldn’t let anyone else entertain the idea—but Jian Yi didn’t have a malicious bone in his stupid body. “He had me pinned, yeah?”

Jian Yi chewed his lip, still staring at the shirt and his hands between them. He nodded once.

“Did you think I wasn’t…willing?” That was as close as Mo could get to saying something like that about He Tian. Mo had been with He Tian since they were in school—there was no one in the world he trusted more. They got rough sometimes, much worse than what Jian Yi had seen, but if one of them used the safe word it ended—immediately and without repercussions. He wasn’t sure he should explain that to Jian Yi though, wasn’t sure this whimp would get any of it.

Jian Yi shook his head.

Mo sighed, half-relief and half-confusion. He grabbed the shirt Jian Yi was twisting out of shape and tossed it into the hamper. “Then what?” He took another step forward, backing Jian Yi into the corner. Mo was a little shorter than him—officially making him the shortest of the group. That didn’t stop him from pushing people around though.

Jian Yi’s mouth moved but his voice was so quiet Mo couldn’t hear him.

He put his hands to the wall on either side of Jian Yi and leaned in closer, ear almost to his lips. “Again.”

_“I didn’t think it would be like that. That’s not how Zhengxi does it. I-I don’t want to… Please… I don’t…”_

His voice got smaller and smaller, shaking out of him like a tiny breeze but chilling Mo to his core. He turned his head to look at his friend’s face, seeing his eyes swimming with tears.

“Jian Yi,” Mo said, his voice clear but low, face still close. “Calm _the fuck_ down.”

Jian Yi blinked back at him, surprised and snapped out of his panic.

“He Tian and I do things our way. You and Zhengxi do things your way. And if we ever swapped, I’m sure it would be completely different from those.”

Jian Yi blushed and let out a little whine.

“Why is this freaking you out? If you changed your mind about talking them into group stuff, then just say so.”

Jian Yi tried to cover his face with his hands but Mo caught them, holding them in the little space between them.

“If you don’t want to mess around with me anymore, just say so,” he continued to press, voice rising. He never meant to let his temper slip, but it was so wildly out of his control that he didn’t much care either. He liked Jian Yi. He didn’t want to lose him. And he’d liked the idea of Xi too. Of course, he’d drop all lewd ideas for the sake of their friendships.

Jian Yi squirmed, still pinned to the wall, shirtless with his pants open. Mo resisted the urge to grind against him, trying to stay on topic and serious—it would be particularly inappropriate now if Jian Yi were having second thoughts.

“For fucks sake! Just say you don’t want to anymore,” Mo yelled.

“He can’t,” Zhengxi said behind him, making Mo jump. He had managed to open the door soundlessly and was gathering up his textbooks.

“What?” Mo blinked at him, still holding Jian Yi captive in the corner.

“He can’t say he doesn’t want to mess around with you or He Tian anymore, because he does want it. It’s why he’s whining like a bitch in the corner right now. He’s probably turned on.” Zhengxi said, matter-o-factly, stuffing books into his backpack.

Jian Yi whined and stomped a foot. “Xixi, you traitor!” he wailed.

Mo was still in shock, piecing together information before looking down Jian Yi’s body at the bulge against the front of his jeans.

Zhengxi came up behind Mo, looking at Jian Yi. “I’m going to class. I talked to He Tian. We agreed to a fourway relationship so do whatever you guys want.”

Mo shivered, Zhengxi’s chest less than an inch from his back as he spoke over his shoulder to Jian Yi. Mo was between them. One push and he’d be _pressed_ between them.

Zhengxi’s hand touched Mo’s side and he held his breath, surprise and heat rushing through him. Zhengxi had never touched him—unless it was to punch him back when they were kids. His hand slid casually up his side, resting against Mo’s ribs and then his body pushed forward and Mo gasped, Zhengxi’s body pushing him into Jian Yi. He felt Jian Yi’s erection press against his hip and Jian Yi whimpered out a moan that was smothered when Zhengxi kissed him—right there, inches from Mo’s face. His hand tightened a little on Mo’s side, squeezing him gently before letting go.

“Have fun. I’ll see you two at the party tonight,” Zhengxi said, casual as ever, and slipped away, leaving them standing there alone in the bedroom.

Mo shivered, mind blown at how something so innocent had been so erotic. Jian Yi sucked his bottom lip, cheeks still pink. Mo reached down and palmed the front of the other man’s pants, easily pushing his already open jeans down to feel his hardon through his absurdly bright underwear.

Jian Yi moaned and arched against the wall, hand flying to his mouth to smother his sounds.

“Jian Yi…” Mo watched him, surprised how much he reacted, eyes teary and skin flushing already. He continued to rub him through his underwear, until his hips bucked a little. “Want me to get you off?” he asked curiously.

Jian Yi bit his fingers, trying to stop himself from yelling yes, but he couldn’t stop himself from nodding.

Mo shivered, fingers hooking into the elastic waistband of his underwear and sliding them down until his erection was free. Jian Yi let out another string of whimpers, whole body shuddering where he leaned against the corner, jeans open and underwear pushed down.

The door creaked and Mo looked back over his shoulder to see He Tian standing there, watching. He stared at his boyfriend. Zhengxi said they’d agreed to the fourway relationship but Mo still waited another second, to see the truth of it in He Tian’s eyes. And then he smiled deviously, holding He Tian’s gave when he slid down to his knees in front of Jian Yi.

He felt He Tian watching him after that, though he couldn’t see him. He stroked Jian Yi and then slowly wrapped his mouth around him, sucking him first in little motions and then deep. Jian Yi moaned like he was in pain, arms curling against his head and shoulders leaned back into the wall, chest arching and hips shaking.

 

* * *

 

Jian Yi couldn’t believe this was happening. Yes, okay, he’d talked about all of this. He’d painted the mental images of debauchery and tried to talk everyone else into it. But he still couldn’t believe it was _actually happening_. Mo was blowing him and when he opened his eyes, He Tian was there, at the edge of the blurry room, leaning against the door frame. He felt a spike of panic, that he would come in and take over and pin him down and not listen when he said no. That was what happened to sluts like Jian Yi—his mother had told him.

But He Tian didn’t move from where he stood, just watching, eyes glazed.

He curled his arm against his face and bit into it to try not to moan when Mo swallowed him, his throat warm and tight and moving around him. Jian Yi soon gasped, shaking his head. “I-I’m going to…” he warned in a breathy plea, face stained red with his embarrassment and again his eyes locked on He Tian—watching. “D-Don’t look!” he begged but it was too late, his chest arched and his hips spasmed when he came.

Mo didn’t pull back, sucking and swallowing until Jian Yi was spent and shivering. His legs gave out and he slumped to the floor in front of Mo, legs on either side of him. He stared at the redhead, his lips swollen from sucking and glossy with saliva. Jian Yi shivered and reached out, curling fingers behind his neck and dragging him in, kissing him deeply and tasting himself.

Now that he had come, it was like he could think clearly again, that cloud of shame disbanded. He moaned against Mo’s mouth, blown away that he had actually done that—that they were actually doing these things. He squirmed to get his legs under himself again, still kissing Mo, practically climbing into his lap and then kicking off the wall to tackle Mo to the floor.

He landed on his back with an oomph, and Jian Yi squirmed down his body, tugging the front of Mo’s sweatpants down while he was still feeling bold. He shivered with pride that the redhead was hard, not sure what he would have done if he hadn’t been—probably second guess himself until he ran away.

Mo gasped when Jian Yi pushed his pants down his hips and started stroking him. “Wow… I-It’s not a quid-pro-quo thing… You don’t have to…” he trailed, struggling to focus and losing it completely when Jian Yi licked his way from base to tip and then started sucking.

 

* * *

 

He Tian watched from the doorway and didn’t dare move, like it might break some fragile spell.

For a second there, he could see what Zhengxi had been talking about—about Jian Yi being shy when it came down to the reality of sex and his own release. He had been biting his own arm to keep from moaning when Mo was blowing him. He had looked twisted up, like his own pleasure upset him, and for a horrible moment He Tian had worried Jian Yi wouldn’t be able to reach his own climax, not because he held out particularly long but just because he seemed to be fighting it so hard.

He Tian had moaned, low and guttural, when Jian Yi looked right at him and told him not to look right when he came. He was darkly grateful Jian Yi had climaxed right then, because he wasn’t 100% sure he would have looked away if he hadn’t. He had been beautiful, spasming and moaning and fighting with himself.

He moaned again when Jian Yi tackled Mo to the floor and pulled his pants down his hips. Soon it was the redhead arching and gasping for air. His red eyes went wide, losing focus the way they did when he was lost to his own pleasure. He Tian shivered. He’d seen Mo come a thousand times but he’d never seen it happen like this—never watched someone else blow him. He’d also never seen Mo blow someone else until today.

A part of him had worried he’d feel a pang of regret or jealousy when it actually happened, but he hadn’t. And he knew for a fact he could feel jealous—had been jealous before—but it wasn’t the same with Jian Yi, just like he was sure it wouldn’t be the same with Zhengxi.

Mo arched and writhed on the floor, stretching until he could reach out and curl his fingers around He Tian’s ankle. Their eyes locked. Mo was almost gone, shivering and moaning, mouth open with an offering. He Tian smiled but shook his head once. He was just watching today. He had to figure out Jian Yi before he went further, had to make sure things went smoothly. And for today, watching was more than enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone that's giving this poly relationship a try! I'm already working on the next chapter so hopefully I'll be updating again SUPER soon!


	4. House Party

Jian Yi and Mo circled the crowded house party. He Tian had gone to the gym earlier and promised to meet them there and Zhengxi was going to go home and change before heading over after school. The sun was going down, the pool glowing bright blue with lights inside and music throbbing from the first floor of the house up through the second and out onto the backyard. People were everywhere, but the sound wasn’t too bad outside.

Mo had been relieved that Jian Yi had gone back to his old, usual, self after their “talk” that morning. He and Mo were sharing a beer, walking around the pool. Mo wanted a cigarette but Jian Yi didn’t smoke and He Tian was usually his source. Mo never seemed to buy his own—just bumming them off He Tian.

“Do you think he’s pissed?” Jian Yi asked.

Mo looked at him, surprised, and took the beer bottle from his hand. “Who?”

“He Tian,” Jian Yi said, sounding annoyed that Mo hadn’t kept up with the conversation—but they had just been talking about that asshole Kong in the kitchen hording all the ice. In fact, they hadn’t talked about He Tian all day.

Mo stopped walking and turned to face Jian Yi, taking a sip of the beer. “Why would he be mad?”

Jian Yi rolled his eyes and look around at the party. “He left right after we… You know…”

“Sucked each other’s dicks,” Mo offered just to see Jian Yi turn red. He Tian would be shocked too—usually Mo was the one blushing. He finally understood why He Tian liked teasing him so much. It was fun being on this side of things. “He Tian didn’t leave right after. First he went to the bathroom and jerked off.”

Jian Yi swallowed hard.

“You think he’s mad because we didn’t get him off?”

Jian Yi shrugged. “Maybe.”

Mo laughed. “You’re an idiot.”

Jian Yi scowled at him. “Fuck you!”

Mo shrugged. “Sure. But this is kind of a public place… Is that your thing? Public places?”

Jian Yi’s eyes widened, and his shoulders tensed.

Mo laughed again. “Oh man, this is going to be fun. You’re like a horny headcase.”

“I am not!”

Mo shrugged, taking another drink before noticing He Tian. “Oh thank god!” Mo crowed, shoving the beer bottle into Jian Yi’s hand and then throwing an arm over his shoulders, leading him through the crowd down the long end of the pool. He Tian was on a lounge chair near the pool, smoking and talking to two women.

Mo had no problem pushing his way into their space and snatching the cigarette from his boyfriend’s fingers. “I missed you,” he said to the cigarette.

He Tian grinned sideways. He’d showered and changed at the gym. He had one of those ridiculous elite memberships to some crazy gym that pretty much gave him his own suite to store clothes. They did his fucking laundry there. Mo had gone with a few times and felt like a complete misfit. He preferred his shitty gym down the block from their apartment building.

He felt Jian Yi tense against his side, his arm still slung around his shoulders.

“Having fun?” He Tian asked, gaze flicking over Jian Yi briefly but settling on Mo.

Mo shrugged. “Kinda boring. Haven’t seen Xi yet.”

Jian Yi pulled his phone from his pocket. “I’ll text him…” he mumbled, shyly.

Mo and He Tian exchanged glances.

“You pissed we left you hanging?” Mo asked He Tian bluntly. He knew the answer. He knew He Tian better than he knew himself. He would sooner rely on He Tian than he would the sun rising.

Jian Yi straightened, eyes widening, and held his breath.

“Left me hanging?” He Tian repeated curiously, reaching up and waiting for Mo to pass him the cigarette back.

Mo took another inhale and nodded, giving it back. “This morning. Blow jobs.”

He Tian grinned and shook his head. “Not even a little.”

Mo nodded, waiting for him to take another breath off the cigarette.

“Keep my seat warm, Jian Yi,” Mo said abruptly.

“What?”

Mo gave him a shove, pushing him into He Tian’s lap. “I’m going to go find more drinks and Xi.” He snatched the cigarette back from He Tian and walked away, back toward the house.

 

* * *

 

Jian Yi stared after him, heart hammering in his chest. Mo was a complete asshole. He was about to get up when He Tian shifted with him still on his lap, leaning back against the lounge seat and draping an arm across Jian Yi’s lap. When he looked at He Tian, the other man was already looking back, those dark eyes studying him and his mouth pulling into a slow smile.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He Tian asked casually, taking the half empty beer from Jian Yi’s grip.

“What? No!” He wasn’t even sure which thing He Tian was referring to, but he knew the answer was no. He didn’t want to talk about it.

“You sure? We’re kind of in public, so you don’t have to be scared I’ll maul you or anything,” He Tian played it off like a joke but Jian Yi saw a flicker of hurt beneath it. “Could be a good opportunity to air it out…”

“No. I’m good.”

He Tian studied him for another second before shrugging.

Jian Yi was about to get up and go looking for Mo or Zhengxi when He Tian spoke again.

“Did I ever tell you about the time I was kidnapped?”

Jian Yi blinked at him. “No…”

“I was only twelve. It was before we met.”

Jian Yi forgot about his panic, staring at He Tian. Leave to him to talk about getting kidnapped like it was nothing important. “What happened?”

He Tian took another sip. People were moving all around them but no one was really listening, all in their own conversations or drunk. “Well the guy was some ex-employee of my dad’s. He snatched me from school and hid me in a basement. He was ransoming me, but I don’t think he really planned to let me go alive. He was really angry. Totally out of his mind. He wanted to ruin my dad’s life.”

“By killing you?” Jian Yi whispered.

He Tian looked at him, surprised. He hesitated. Jian Yi stared, he’d never seen He Tian hesitate—not really. “Eventually, he would have killed me. At first he beat me up. Then he did other things…” He winced, nose wrinkling with an almost snarl before he forced a shrug. “He filmed it and sent it to my dad. I never saw the recording myself. I’m sure they destroyed every copy they could find…” He trailed off.

Jian Yi stared until he realized he had been staring for too long and blinked, looking away. He Tian hadn’t said the words but he still made it clear enough what had happened. He tried to say it like it wasn’t a big deal, but his voice had dipped low and grown hollow, like he was distancing himself from the memory even when he said it. “What happened to him?”

“Who?”

“The guy.”

He Tian smiled but it was a vicious sort of grin. He handed the beer back to Jian Yi. “My brother showed up. He killed the guy…eventually. Then burned the whole house down.” He shrugged. “Mob kids have fucked up childhoods.”

“Does Mo know?” he whispered.

He Tian hummed. “Yes. He also wanted to know if the guy was still alive.”

Jian Yi held the bottle in both hands, looking down at it. “My mom used to call me a slut and say all these messed up things about sex… Like only sluts like sex and-and she’d describe what happens to them—what men do to sluts.” His voice got smaller as he talked until he sighed, tired, and took a drink. “It was stupid. It was just talk. She did other weird stuff, like lock me in closets and when she was drunk she’d drag me out of my room to meet her current boyfriend—threatening to give me to him. She never did it though. She never crossed that line. No one _did_ anything. But I can’t always shake this panic that I am what she said—that I am doing something wrong—that all those fucked up things she said are true and will happen to me.” He’d never said that much of it out loud before, only the smallest details to Zhengxi. He’d been sure Zhengxi would push him away when he realized how messed up he was, but he hadn’t.

Jian Yi finished the beer and sighed, putting the empty bottle down and looking at He Tian, not sure what he expected but it wasn’t to see tears in his eyes. They didn’t fall, just making the dark of his eyes shine a little. Anyone looking would think he’d had too many drinks, but Jian Yi knew it wasn’t that. His cheeks felt warm. “Nothing happened,” he repeated.

“Just because _that_ didn’t happen… Doesn’t mean nothing did. It doesn’t mean you weren’t scared and confused. It doesn’t mean it didn’t leave a mark.”

Jian Yi swallowed, stunned. He was shocked how relieved he felt by those words, by the acknowledgement—like he wasn’t a totally dramatic freak. “I wasn’t afraid you’d maul me,” he blurted out.

He Tian blinked and then raised an eyebrow.

“Before… I wasn’t afraid you’d attack me or anything. I just didn’t know what to say or how to explain it…” He glanced around at the other people at the party, relieved not to find anyone watching them or listening to their conversation. “I don’t think I can do things like Mo does…” He had to focus not to whisper. He should say it clearly. He Tian deserved that. “But I…” He closed his eyes, hating how hard this was to say. “I want you.”

Jian Yi’s eyes burst open when arms were around him, pulling him until he was against He Tian’s chest, leaned back into the chair with him. “I made an agreement with Zhengxi,” he said casually, arms settling around Jian Yi and face close to his. “I promised you and I wouldn’t have sex unless he was there. For the first time, at least—if we have a first time, that is.”

Jian Yi blushed and blinked at him. He wanted to call him a liar, because he couldn’t imagine Zhengxi saying anything like that. But, then again, he’d been saying a lot lately—for him anyway. And the idea of it, as lewd and blush-worthy as it was, set him at ease—because if Zhengxi wasn’t here right now, then nothing could lead to that. So, maybe it was something he would say—knowing exactly the effect it would have. Zhengxi was smart like that.

“Of course,” He Tian continued. “We’re also in a lounge chair by a pool at a crowded party… So, you’re probably safe to kiss me if you wanted to. In fact, you could flirt and tease all you like and nothing would go past that.”

Jian Yi’s mind raced. He did love to tease—had made a hobby of it the past year. And nothing he could possibly do out here could be any worse than this morning when He Tian watched Jian Yi and Mo blow each other and still walked away.

Jian Yi grinned, feeling suddenly wolfish.

 

* * *

 

Mo had gone upstairs, leaning against the railing and finishing the cigarette. Jian Yi was still in He Tian’s lap, the two making out now.

“So, you’ve finally been replaced.”

He tensed, mouth pulling into a sneer at that familiar voice.

She Li leaned against the railing beside him, back to it and head turned to look down at Mo. “It makes sense I guess—the rich boys hooking up. I’ll admit, I was impressed you managed to hang on to that one as long as you did. I thought you’d be on the streets by now, or in jail like your old man.”

Mo took another drag off the cigarette and held it in his lungs for a long minute, just to feel that swelling burn and let it take his anger. He wasn’t going to lose his temper—not tonight. He wasn’t going to fuck up whatever moment He Tian and Jian Yi were having down there with a scene.

Mo exhaled smoke. “Go away.”

She Li grinned. “Since He Tian has thrown you away…” His hand came up, reaching for Mo’s neck.

His eyes widened, jerking back and moving his free hand to smack it away but it only seemed to spark She Li into action, one hand grabbing Mo’s wrist and the other his neck, lifting him upright and shoving him backward until they were walking through an open door into a dark room. “What the fuck,” Mo hissed, dropping the cigarette and giving She Li’s side a punch. It stopped him, but they were already away from the crowd. At first Mo thought that was a good thing—so this wouldn’t be a scene—so he could just go back to the party like nothing happened.

But then She Li punched him in the stomach, doubling him over and shoving him to the floor. He was on top of him, weight pinning him down and hand on his neck again, lifting his chin. “You know… With a face like that, you might be able to land another sugar daddy.” He thought absently, almost kindly, before that ripple of cruelty changed his features.

Mo swore and struggled under him, barely able to get enough air with his weight on his chest. She Li leaned off to the side and came back, the stub of Mo’s cigarette between his fingers, the end glowing orange in the dark room. He froze, staring up at him. “We didn’t break up, you asshole,” Mo warned darkly. He knew the reason She Li pushed him around when He Tian wasn’t looking had always been out of fear. He Tian had scared the shit out of him back when they were in school and he’d been skirting Mo ever since. “You’re not going to burn me,” he continued but She Li grinned and it was full of malice.

He grabbed Mo’s jaw to hold his face. Mo struggled, grabbing at the arm coming closer with the cigarette. His heels thudded against the floor. “Motherfucker, I’ll kill you!” Mo snapped, but he couldn’t get loose and that cigarette was getting closer and closer.

“What will you have left if your face is messed up?” She Li wondered, honestly curious. “Why would he keep you around if he can’t even show you off? Especially now that he has Jian Yi…”

“You psycho!” Mo yelled, arm shaking. He tried to reach for the actual cigarette but She Li’s knees pressed against his shoulder, keeping him pinned and his arms too far down. “Fuck!” He could feel the heat under his eye, ghosting over his cheek.

“Where should I put it?” She Li grinned, seeming to like the sound of the question.

Mo felt sick, feeling She Li’s erection pressing down against his chest.

“You keep fighting it, Mo. But eventually, you’ll end up on the street where you belong, and you’ll be begging me to save you from the other monsters…”

Mo clenched his teeth, the heat of the cigarette running over his cheek, less than a centimeter from touching down and burning him. But he wasn’t going to beg or cry. He hadn’t begged or cried back when they were kids and She Li shoved that dull thumbtack into his ears to pierce them and he wouldn’t do it now. Maybe that was why She Li kept coming back to him… Before he could think on it, or forget when the cigarette finally burned into his face, She Li was dragged off of him.

Mo blinked at him, neck arched when a hand fisted in his white hair and dragged him to his feet before slamming him face first into the nearest wall. Mo sat up, surprised, gawking when Zhengxi smashed She Li’s face into the wall a second time and then whispered something in his ear. Mo couldn’t catch it, but it had a nasty hiss to it and She Li’s mouth curled into a snarl. And then Zhengxi was dragging him out of the dark room and back into the crowded party.

Mo sat up, wincing at the pain in his chest and remembering he’d been punched. He grunted and picked up the cigarette that had almost been mashed into his face. He took the last drag it had and then snubbed it out on the floor, leaning against the side of a bed and catching his breath. When his chest stopped aching he’d go back out into the party and act like nothing had happened. Fucking She Li. What an asshole.

Mo wished his words didn’t hurt though—wished he didn’t know exactly what to say to make his heart wince. He wasn’t jealous of He Tian and Jian Yi and he didn’t think He Tian as going to dump him—not really. But some part of him would always be that insecure poor kid.

He was surprised when the door opened again and Zhengxi walked back into the room. He hadn’t really expected him to come back. For a second, they just stared at each other and then Zhengxi came all the way in and sat next to him, leaning against the side of the bed.

“Thanks for that,” Mo mumbled.

Zhengxi nodded once and then tapped the bottom of Mo’s chin to push his head up. Mo didn’t understand at first, stunned to have Xi looking at his face so intently, and then he realized he was looking for burns.

“Am I still pretty?” Mo asked with a laugh on his lips.

Zhengxi gave a nod and sat back beside him, pretending not to see the blush on Mo’s cheeks when he actually agreed.

“What did you say to him?” Mo asked, trying to change the subject.

Zhengxi shrugged but didn’t say. “He still bullies you?”

“Not usually and only when He Tian won’t see. He usually doesn’t get that…bold.”

“Probably saw He Tian and Jian Yi making out,” Zhengxi said casually.

“You saw that?”

Zhengxi pulled out his phone, tapped the screen and then angled it so Mo could see it. He Tian had sent Xi a video. Jian Yi obviously thought they were taking a selfie and then He Tian suddenly turned his face and kissed him, tongue sliding lewdly past Jian Yi’s lips.

Mo laughed and nodded. That seemed about right.

“You okay?” Zhengxi asked.

Mo was surprised. “What?”

“I heard what that asshole said to you… Are you okay with He Tian and Jian Yi?”

Mo blinked, startled. Zhengxi sounded sincerely concerned. He hadn’t expected that. “Yeah. I don’t know why He Tian’s kept me around, but I don’t think he’s going to kick me to the curb now,” he said with a laugh, making a joke of it but meaning every word.

Zhengxi didn’t laugh, watching him curiously. He was thinking something, Mo could tell and waited for him to finally say it. “If you decide it’s too much—If you decide you don’t want to do this as a group anymore and you want to go back to just you and He Tian—for whatever reason—but you don’t want to be the one that ends it, I’ll do it for you.”

“What?” Mo was completely thrown now. He didn’t want to take back their new relationship status, but he still felt a sudden relief at the offer.

“I could do it if you didn’t want to. I don’t want to see anything bad happen to you and He Tian’s relationship… So, if you need it to stop, promise you’ll tell me?”

Mo nodded slowly, shocked how relieved he was to have that easy out—like knowing there’s a parachute even though he had no intention of crashing this plane. “Thanks.”

“Do you want to go back to the party?”

Mo groaned but nodded. “Probably should…”

“Unless you want to stay in the dark room…” Zhengxi sounded like he was smiling but when Mo looked, he had his usual expression—casual disinterest.

“They do have a big tv…” Mo pointed out.

Zhengxi turned his head to look at it too. “Basketball is on,” he added.

“Sold!” Mo rolled to his feet and jumped onto the bed, sitting against the headboard and grabbing up the remote.

Zhengxi sat beside him and Mo felt his heartbeat thud. He sat right next to him. Thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder. Zhengxi never sat that close.

Mo swallowed and turned on the tv, the blue light making the room glow. He punched in the right channel.

Zhengxi didn’t say anything and he didn’t make any moves either. They just sat there, until the nearness became normal and they were both yelling at the screen and the players—forgetting that they usually weren’t this close—that Mo didn’t usually mess up Xi’s hair in his excitement over a shot—that Zhengxi had never _ever_ put his arm around Mo’s shoulders before.

It all became a new normal.


	5. Bruises

 He Tian practically pulled Mo out of the backseat of his car, flipping him over his shoulder and giving his ass a smack. Mo jolted a little at that, sputtering threats—a little too drunk and a little too tired to string them together in any great order.

He Tian and Jian Yi had found their boyfriends holed up in a bedroom, watching basketball at the house party and dragged them out to go clubbing. Mo, was a fantastic club partner. He Tian never got over how he could lose himself after a few drinks—suddenly on a dancefloor, eyes half-closed and body writhing. He Tian drank very little, mostly because he didn’t like losing that much control but more and more it was to remember every second of the night. Mo was beautiful—the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and ever day of his life he was grateful that somehow he was his.

Strangers on dancefloors reached for Mo like a flame—knowing it was dangerous but unable to resist. He might let them touch or pet for a second and then those hazy red eyes would slash in their direction and if they were lucky, all he did was shove. And drunk Mo would let himself get in bad situations when He Tian was looking. He Tian loved that too. Mo didn’t overthink or consider the outcome of his choices when He Tian was around—he just jumped. And it never didn’t make He Tian’s chest swell with pride, knowing he was trusted to catch him. And damned if he didn’t love catching him.

It was almost four in the morning when they headed home. Jian Yi was singing the same two lines of a song on repeat and if anyone tried to point it out, he sang louder. Xhengzi pushed him ahead of him, up the stairs to the apartment, steering him but making no effort to stop the singing.

He Tian carried Mo up and into the apartment, down the long hall and past his friends, into his and Mo’s bedroom. He loved that they shared a bedroom. It had just been He Tian’s for the first year, even when Mo was sleeping there every night he still wouldn’t treat it like his own. His Little Mo was always afraid to overstep—afraid of the heartbreak and let down of counting on things and people. Maybe that was why it meant so much to He Tian that drunk Mo would cut loose and expect He Tian to get him home. Trust hadn’t been easy for Mo.

He flipped the redhead onto the mattress, the bounce waking him a little. He squirmed, eyelids opening when He Tian lifted his legs to pull off his sneakers. “Are we home?” he mumbled.

“Mhm,” He Tian, smiled.

Mo stretched, grin spreading wide. “Are we gonna fuck?” he slurred.

He Tian laughed darkly and crawled over him, pulling Mo up to tug his shirt off over his head. He never slept with a shirt on. He’d overheat. “Nope.”

“Because you’re worried I’ll barf on you? I only did that once…” Mo protested.

He Tian laid him back down on the bed. “Nope. Because you’re going to fall asleep and that’s not fun.” He leaned over him, mouth brushing his ear. “And because we already fucked in that club bathroom.”

_He Tian had watched Mo slide off the dancefloor and across the club, into the bathrooms. Two men had followed. He Tian walked in just after them. They had stopped to gawk at Mo, sitting on the counter beside the sink and waiting. For a second, they probably thought they were having the best luck of their lives. Then Mo flashed them a toothy smile and shook his head once before looking past them to He Tian. Whatever look He Tian had given had been enough for both of them to leave without a word. He locked the door behind them and stalked over to Mo. The redhead was still swaying to the beat of the music that vibrated through the whole building, his eyes glassy and his teeth tugging at his own bottom lip. He Tian came closer and closer, until he was standing between Mo’s spread thighs, feeling the heat of his body through the thin material of their shirts._

_Before he’d walked in here, he’d been thinking about asking Mo if he was too rough with him—if he’d been inconsiderate. Being so careful with Jian Yi had left him worried he’d wronged Mo somehow, by never having been careful with him—not like that. But now, staring down into those wild, hungry eyes—he knew asking would be stupid. He knew Mo—knew his moods and what made him moan. He knew what he wanted and he knew he could let himself loose because he always wanted what Mo wanted. His grabbed the back of that red hair and pulled Mo’s head back, reveling in the moan he gave before He Tian devoured his mouth. Mo’s fingers were on his pants, tugging them open and pushing them down enough to stroke him while sucking the tongue He Tian fed him._

_After making out for a hot minutes, Little Mo shoved at his chest, pushing him back a step and hopping down. “This way… I wanna watch…” he panted, undoing his own pants. Before he could turn himself around and lean over the counter, He Tian spun him, pushing him and drinking up another of his boyfriend’s moans. Mo braced himself against the mirror and He Tian fucked him until he was worried the glass would break—until someone outside was banging on the door—until Mo was coming into the sink and those red eyes met his in the reflection._

Mo hummed happily in bed and closed his eyes. “I like mirrors…”

“Yes, you do,” He Tian kissed his head and got up, about to pull off his own clothes and change for bed when he noticed the shadow across Mo’s chest. He flicked on the lights. Mo whined and threw an arm over his face. A dark bruise had formed like a cloud across Mo’s abdomen. It hadn’t been there this morning, but Mo hadn’t taken his shirt off when they were fooling around in the club bathroom. And He Tian had been with him all night. Almost all night.

He noticed then the small, round bruises on Mo’s neck and jaw, where fingers had pressed too hard. His stomach sank low. Mo had hung out with Zhengxi for a couple hours tonight… He Tian winced, not wanting to suspect his friend but the thought struck him hard. Maybe Zhengxi had tried out being rough and didn’t know how far to go? Maybe it had been an accident? But He Tian would still be responsible, having handed him over and looked away. “Guan Shan,” he said firmly.

Mo jerked a little at his name, eyes half-lidded again to glare up at He Tian. He probably thought he said “what” or something clever but he just stared.

“Who hit you?”

Mo’s brow pinched and then he looked down at himself. His expression relaxed and he grunted, head falling back onto the pillows. He was an expert liar but never to He Tian. He had learned all his tells years ago. Normally, his Little Mo would just distract so He Tian never asked the right questions—but once the question was asked, he rarely tried to wiggle out.

“She Li was at the party,” Mo said, voice deep with almost sleep.

He Tian frowned, leaning over him and brushing his fingers across the fingertip bruises on his neck. “What happened?”

“Assholes gonna be assholes,” Mo said and then giggled at what he thought was extreme cleverness in his current state.

“Guan Shan.”

He whined and kicked at the covers. “Said some shit. Dragged me in a room. Was gonna burn me with my own cigarette.” He laughed and shook his head. “What a dumb bitch. You would have fucked him up.”

He Tian would have smiled if he wasn’t so pissed. Drunk Mo would say things that sober Mo would only think. “What else?” he prodded, looking Mo’s face over again as though he could have somehow missed a burn. He checked his neck and shoulders too.

“He’s such a jerk.”

“What happened?”

“He was sitting on my chest.” Mo’s eyes opened for a second, but were staring someplace far away, his smile souring. “He was turned on. I felt it. He was gonna burn me and he was turned on.”

He Tian tensed, gut twisting. “What happened?” he said it softer this time. Mo had seemed okay tonight, he had actually been really happy, but the redhead was savagely skilled at compartmentalizing. He could pack trauma away like old photos, forgotten when out of sight.

Mo’s eyes had closed again, breathing evening out as he sunk toward sleep. “Xi showed up. Threw She Li into a wall and said something to him...” He smiled at the memory. “She Li looked scared. Don’t know what he said.”

He Tian sighed, relief mingling with guilt. It had been a long time since She Li was a problem. It didn’t take much to guess what had inspired the psychopath to move in tonight. He Tian had been very publicly preoccupied with Jian Yi at the party.

A hand curled in the front of his shirt and he looked down at Mo. He was still half asleep, eyes closed but his brow creased the way it did when he was being serious. “Don’t overthink it. Assholes are gonna be asshole.” He smiled again, slow and drunk but still able to guess what was going through his boyfriend’s head.

He Tian touched Mo’s ear, thumbing the black stud in his skin thoughtfully. “Go to sleep. I’m gonna brush my teeth.”

Mo hummed and let go of his shirt.

He Tian stood up, flicking off the lights and leaving their room. The bathroom door was open, light spilling out into the hall. Jian Yi was still singing in his room and He Tian smiled a little when he spotted the blond sprawled out in his underwear on the bed, singing to himself now.

Zhengxi was in the bathroom, brushing his teeth. He met He Tian’s gaze in the mirror, finished brushing and spit. He Tian waited while he rinsed his mouth and put his toothbrush back with the others. Zhengxi turned around, leaning against the counter and waiting—sensing that He Tian was upset maybe?

He felt a pang of guilt that he had ever, even for a split-second, imagined that Zhengxi might have hit Mo—might have been too rough with him. Even if Mo weren’t Zhengxi’s friend, even if he didn’t understand how important Mo was to He Tian, he didn’t have it in him to hurt someone he cared for—and He Tian suspected Zhengxi did care for Mo, more than a friend would.

“You okay?” Zhengxi asked, sounding annoyed that he had to break the silence.

He Tian took the two steps to him, noticed how Zhengxi tensed like he might be in for a fight, but closed the space anyway. They weren’t used to each other yet—weren’t used to this level of intimacy. But He Tian wanted them to be. His fingers curled around the back of Zhengxi’s neck, arching to tip his head back and kissed him. His mouth opened and He Tian slid his tongue in, tasting toothpaste.

When they parted, Zhengxi was still leaning against the counter, both a little winded. “Miss me already?”

He Tian would have smiled if he weren’t still thinking about She Li trying to put a cigarette out on Mo’s skin. “He told me what you did,” he said.

Zhengxi, bless him, looked confused, one eyebrow raising.

“About She Li.”

Zhengxi frowned. “He’s a dick.”

“Momo said you smashed him against a wall and said something to She Li. What did you say?”

Zhengxi shrugged once, uncomfortable talking about his heroics maybe. “I was just scaring him off,” he said, not answering.

“Still. I’d like to know,” He Tian tried again, even more curious now that Zhengxi hesitated to say.

For a second Zhengxi looked like he’d decline to tell him but maybe thought better of it—maybe because he would want to know if it had been Jian Yi. “I told him if he touched Mo Guan Shan again, I’d break his legs and throw him off a bridge.” He hesitated, looking away. “I told him Mo was mine, not his, and then I slammed his face against the wall again and dragged him out of the house.” He said it quickly, quietly. He Tian stared at him. He should be furious, he realized. Mo had been He Tian’s and only He Tian’s since they were kids. Zhengxi stood there, waiting for that anger, staring at a spot on the floor. “I didn’t really think it out. I walked in and saw him and just… If I over-stepped, I’m—” he started to apologize.

He Tian kissed him again and this time they fought over who was leading, teeth almost mashing and nipping at each other’s lips. When He Tian pulled back, they both panted. It was still awkward, still new, but it was a good new. “You didn’t over-step,” He Tian said. “Thank you.” He didn’t have to explain more, or how important Mo was to him, or how much pain it would have caused him if something bad had happened. Zhengxi would know.

Zhengxi nodded once, walking past him to the door. “Anytime.” He paused, thoughtfully. “Everytime,” he promised and then went to bed.


	6. Like

Mo woke to the glow of daylight orange behind his lids, the press of a chest against his back and the grip of a hand around his sex—stroking. His mind registered everything all at once, followed by the sharpest flash of confusion and panic, breath catching and hand grabbing the arm wrapped around him. In another second he recognized his bedroom and the scent and feel of He Tian behind him.

“Shhh…” He Tian cooed, teeth grazing his shoulder and sending shivers down his spine.

Mo relaxed and shivered. “Fuck…” he moaned.

“You were talking in your sleep,” He Tian whispered against his skin, sucking and biting. “Moaning more like it…”

“Was not…” Mo tried to argue, breath faster as He Tian continued to stroke him.

“Mm… I know your sounds, Momo… You were having a dirty dream.”

Mo honestly had no idea what he had been dreaming, all he knew was that he woke up to this. He pressed his hips back, feeling He Tian’s hard on press against his ass. They both moaned, the sounds vibrating against his hangover.

He Tian kissed and sucked along his neck, up to his ear. “You were panting ‘more’, already hard as a rock…”

Mo shivered, hips rolling between He Tian’s hand around his cock and his erection grinding against his ass. “Dream you must be real impressive then…” he mumbled, sucking two fingers and then reaching back between them to finger his own ass—a rushed job because all he wanted now was to be filled.

He Tian purred, biting softly at his ear. “Mm… Only it wasn’t my name you breathed.”

Mo froze, still shivering and panting, eyes opening now. “Wh-What?”

“You said ‘Xi’ in your sleep, Momo,” He Tian whispered.

Mo’s mind raced, a spike of panic. “No, I didn’t.”

“You did,” He Tian moved behind him, tugging his wrist to pull Mo’s fingers from his own ass.

Mo shivered, trying to turn to look at him but a hand on his shoulder stopped him and kept him in that position, on his side and facing away. “A-Are you angry? I don’t even remember the dream. It’s not like I was in control—” His words cut off into a guttural moan when he felt He Tian’s dick press against his hole, pushing his hips forward until he was sliding inside of him.

Mo arched, reaching up blinding to grab on to the side of the headboard.

“Do I feel angry to you?” He Tian asked, hips sliding back and rocking forward again, a hand going into Mo’s hair and pulling his head back.

Mo ground out moans, eyes rolling back as those hips rocked against his ass. “H-Honestly… No idea…” he managed between raspy breaths.

He felt He Tian’s smile against his neck and shivered. “No one controls Mo Guan Shan,” he panted against his skin as he fucked him, hand eventually sliding down Mo’s side to wrap around his sex again.

Mo clung to the edge of the headboard, body bowing and rocking back against He Tian’s, vision blurring. He couldn’t think. He could barely even hear. He clenched his teeth on a vague warning that he was almost there, that he couldn’t take any more—barely awake and already at the edge.

He Tian fucked him right over the edge, following him a few thrusts later and purring against his skin. Before he pulled out, he bit softly at Mo’s ear again, teeth sounding off against that black earing. Mo shuddered, slowly tipping over onto his back and steadying his breathing. This was a weird way to wake up—hung over, confused, and so wonderfully fucked.

He Tian came back to bed with a towel, rubbing Mo’s cum from his hand into it and then tossing it to him, in case there was more mess. “We should talk about She Li?”

“Why? If you tell me I was moaning his name too, I’m calling bullshit,” Mo laughed darkly. He had dated She Li when he was a kid, briefly, and it had been horrifying. Pretty much every interaction with She Li was horrifying. All at once, he remembered the night before—She Li and a cigarette and later Mo telling He Tian about it.

He Tian crawled back onto the bed. “If that happened, I’d be taking you to a psychiatrist…” He touched his jaw, turning his head to the side. Mo didn’t understand until he realized He Tian was looking at his neck. If he’d had bruises last night, they’d be worse this morning.

He swatted his boyfriend’s hand away. “He was probably drunk,” Mo lied easily, trying to save He Tian any possible guilt.

He Tian frowned at him. “He saw me with Jian Yi, didn’t he?”

Mo groaned. “Don’t make a thing out of it. It ended up fine.” He would hate himself if this somehow fucked things up for He Tian and Jian Yi. He rolled out of bed, pulling his pants back up. “I’ll shower first—”

He Tian’s hand caught his wrist, tugging once to make him look back. His dark eyes were serious and he was unbearably beautiful for this early in the morning. “Who you dream about is your business. I’ll never be pissed about who you fantasize about, Mo. And if you decide to have a relationship with Xi, that’s okay. We’ve talked about this, but I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it.”

Mo blushed bright pink at all those sentimental words aimed at him, eyes boring into him, He Tian’s thumb gently stroking the inside of his wrist. He shuddered and jerked his hand free, still blushing when he scratched at his scalp. “Fuck, don’t say it at all. I get it,” he muttered, overwhelmed, grabbing up a towel and retreating to the bathroom.

He showered and for a long minute, just leaned his forehead to the tiles and closed his eyes—waiting for his heart to stop hammering against his chest. He was never going to be used to that much positive attention—that much love. He Tian had been like that for years and Mo still panicked sometimes, still turned red and ran away when it was too much. He never felt like he deserved it—even if he’d say he did, even if he’d demand to be treated like a fucking king out loud—deep down he didn’t believe it and when He Tian actually did it, it blew him away.

Mo showered and came back to the room to get dressed. He Tian grinned at him, the way he always did—like he knew all the stupid things going through his head. And maybe because he did know, he didn’t say a damn thing on his way to the bathroom.

Mo’s hair was still wet when he went to the kitchen, poked around the fridge and decided to make breakfast everyone. He liked cooking. The coffee machine started up automatically, as always. He had just started the rice and was chopping up the onions when Zhengxi padded into the kitchen, grabbing a cup of coffee.

“Breakfast will be ready in maybe twenty minutes.”

Zhengxi nodded and went around the counter, sitting on the other side and drinking his coffee—watching Mo cook. He had done it before, hadn’t he? Why did it feel weird now? Why could _feel_ Xi’s eyes on his skin? That had to be in his head. It was the hangover. Or maybe something from hanging out last night. Zhengxi wasn’t really watching him. He was probably just sitting there, drinking his coffee and looking at his phone.

Mo chanced a glance and their eyes met. Zhengxi sipped his coffee.

Mo went back to cooking. “What?” he finally asked.

“What?” Zhengxi parroted.

Mo groaned and rolled his eyes, back to chopping onions, putting the pan on the stove with the oil heating.

“You don’t like when people look at you,” Zhengxi pointed out, his tone making it sound like it was a fact he was noting to himself rather than something to discuss.

Mo huffed an almost laugh. “Would you like it if someone sat there watching you?”

“Maybe if it was you,” Zhengxi said.

Mo’s shoulders jerked in surprised, hand slipping and knife slicing his thumb. “Fuck!” He dropped the knife and held his hand up, red rising up from a thin cut and dripping onto the floor. He was about to stick it in his mouth on impulse when a hand grabbed his. He blinked, confused.

Zhengxi tugged him a step to the side, turned on the water and put his hand under it to rinse off the cut, holding it there while he reached out with his other hand to snatch up a clean dishtowel.

“What—” Mo started and then stopped, staring while Zhengxi took his hand back out from under the cold water and pressed the cloth over his thumb. He felt heat rise to his cheeks and tried to pull his hand back but Zhengxi kept hold of it.

He took the towel away for a second, looking at the cut and then putting it back. “It doesn’t look deep. It’ll stop bleeding. I’ll grab the band aids.”

“You don’t have to…” Mo mumbled, but Zhengxi had let go of his hand and already left the kitchen, going to a cupboard in the hallway. “I can do it myself,” Mo continued to complain, voice low and not at all certain. Zhengxi didn’t listen anyway, expression still set in that impassive, unimpressed state while he wrapped Mo’s thumb.

When he was done, Zhengxi’s mouth pressed, thinking. And then he nodded once and grabbed his coffee. “I apologize for bothering you.”

“What?” Mo asked, stunned.

Zhengxi paused. “I shouldn’t have been staring or…flirting, if you didn’t like it. Especially while you were holding a knife.”

Mo was definitely blushing again. Why was everything so hard? Couldn’t guys just fuck him when they wanted to fuck him and not flirt or say nice things or bandage his thumb or pretend he was something soft and…and what? Important? Valuable? Worth it?

Sometimes, Mo wished he were two people so he could punch himself for being so fucking damaged. The truth was, he loved the way He Tian looked and him and talked to him and there was something in the way Zhengxi had been treating him since that night he stepped into his shower that made his heart race. “I liked it,” Mo blurted out and then quickly looked away. “But maybe not while I’m holding knives…”

Zhengxi stared at him for a second that felt impossibly long and then nodded. “Is it okay if I sit out here?” he asked, nudging his head toward the seat he’d been in across the counter.

“Yeah,” Mo muttered, going back to the cutting board. At least he hadn’t bled on anything. He finished the onions and then dumped them into the frying pan.

Zhengxi sat down, drank his coffee, and this time made casual conversation, asking him all sorts of shit about school and how his mom was doing. Mo relaxed, and eventually talking got easy.

 

* * *

 

He Tian had paused in the hallway, overhearing a moment of their conversation in the kitchen, just long enough to hear his Momo admit he liked Zhengxi flirting with him. He relaxed at that, grateful Mo had been upfront with his feelings—at least the small ones. He wasn’t sure Zhengxi would be pushy enough to drag it out of Mo the way He Tian had years ago.

He was about to go back to his room when he saw Jian Yi’s door open the slightest crack. He pushed it open and leaned in, grinning when he saw Jian Yi asleep, a lump of covers with two long pale legs sticking out.

He Tian crept closer, fingering an edge of the comforter and lifting it, leaning down to peek in and biting his lip when he saw that Jian Yi was naked. And he’d thought Mo was pale. He crawled over the lump and settled himself on the other side of the bed, on his side, back turned to the wall. The lump wiggled, Jian Yi grumbling something about too much light and squirming closer to He Tian. He thought he was Zhengxi. He Tian slid a hand along the bed, arm disappearing under the covers, blindly finding Jian Yi’s skin. His arm, his side, his back, down to his thigh. Jian Yi hummed for a sleepy second and then his body went rigid, suddenly completely awake. He Tian grinned wolfishly, still outside the covers, his hand inside against Jian Yi’s hip. He could practically feel the other man’s pulse beat against his palm, mind reeling in the flash of a second when Jian Yi had realized the hand touching him wasn’t the hand of his boyfriend—that that wasn’t Zhengxi’s body beside him on the bed.

Before the blond could decide what to do, He Tian tossed the covers up and snaked both arms around Jian Yi. As soon as those wheat eyes saw him, they flared. He struggled, kicking at the covers and letting out thin eeping sounds and swears, but He Tian gathered him up quickly, pinning him under him and against the mattress. He ran his hands up Jian Yi’s arms, gently pushing them up over his head, their hands sinking under a pillow and the comforter settling overtop of them.

Jian Yi panted, turning a soft pink and staring up at He Tian, their noses almost touching they were so close. “Y-Y-You said you wouldn’t!” He found the words and burst them out.

He Tian laughed richly. Jian Yi squirmed under him, naked and rubbing against He Tian’s clothed body. “Wouldn’t what?”

Jian Yi bit his bottom lip, shaking his head like he couldn’t possibly say the words. He Tian had heard the other man say things far more lewd than this, but this was different, wasn’t it? That was the point with Jian Yi, he’d been learning. If it wasn’t a real possibility, he could say all kinds of suggestive things and flirt with the best of them. But right now, naked and pressed under him, he was completely at a loss.

He Tian rolled his hips and watched the other man’s face twist as he tried to choke himself on a moan.

“Y-You said… You said you wouldn’t… Not without Xixi here…” Jian Yi trailed out.

He Tian nodded slowly, kissing Jian Yi softly. “I did say that, didn’t I?” He kissed him again. “I just wanted to talk,” he continued, hips still slowly rubbing against Jian Yi’s.

Jian Yi shivered under him, arms testing the gentle but solid grip of He Tian’s hands around his wrists, still pinning his arms high overhead. “T-Talk?”

“Mhmm… Finals are soon. I was thinking we could go on vacation, all four of us, someplace secluded,” He Tian purred, dropping feather-light kisses down Jian Yi’s jaw and neck, feeling his pulse under his skin.

“Va-Vacation?” Jian Yi swallowed hard, nodding slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, I like that,” he whispered.

He Tian grinned against Jian Yi’s skin, at the base of his neck. “You like it?”

Jian Yi gulped and nodded shakily.

He Tian wasn’t even sure if Jian Yi knew what he was talking about anymore, but he knew he felt the other man’s erection pressing against his hip. He let go of Jian Yi’s wrists slowly, hands sliding down his arms as he kissed lower and lower. Jian Yi either didn’t realize his arms were free, or he didn’t want them to be, because he left them over his head, twisting under the pillow as he gasped for air, He Tian’s mouth working down his abdomen, teeth grazing his hip.

“Hnn… Wait… I…” Jian Yi trailed words, body squirming.

He Tian slid down between his legs under the covers and then ran his tongue along his hard sex, shivering at the string of sound Jian Yi made, body spasming. He Tian pressed Jian Yi’s thighs down, pinning him, and continued to lick but not suck—wondering how many of those shrill, tortured sounds he could drag out of Jian Yi before he completely lost it. Could he make him cum like this? Without even sucking?

Jian Yi twisted and gasped. “Pleasepleaseplease,” he cried, the word on repeat muffled.

He Tian reached up and pulled the covers down, to get a look at Jian Yi’s face while he ran a tongue from the base of his cock to the tip.

Jian Yi had one arm across his face, biting into it again. He Tian was starting to realize why the blond always wore long sleeves or hoodies. He reached up, grabbed the arm, and pulled it down, pressing Jian Yi’s palm flat against the mattress beside them. “Move your hand and I’ll stop,” he warned, voice dark and level, tongue flicking out against Jian Yi’s dick again and making him spasm.

He saw Jian Yi’s other arm jerk, almost moving to take the first one’s place against his mouth. “Put it down by your side,” he ordered.

Jian Yi hesitated, shaking, before putting his left arm down to his side too, palm against the mattress. “Please…” he whined, not seeming to know exactly what he was begging for. For the freedom to hide behind his arms and muffle his sounds of pleasure? For release? For more?

“Say you like it, again,” He Tian purred, looking up at him, mouth over his cock. His tongue snaked down, licking the head, saliva connecting his lips to Jian Yi’s swollen sex. “Say it and I’ll blow you. Say it and I won’t make you say anything else… I won’t make you ask for me to suck you off. I won’t make you tell me how you like to be fucked or if you’ve imagined me fucking you…” he said, all the while watching Jian Yi’s eyes glaze and chest heave, body struggling not to squirm, dick throbbing under his chin. “All you have to say is that you like it. I won’t take anything, Jian Yi.”

Jian Yi whined, fingers twisting against the sheet and arms shaking but not rising to hide his face, his expressions, his want—staying right where He Tian had said to leave them. His mouth was open, panting for air, eyes glossy and half lidded but staring down at him. He swallowed hard. “I-I like it,” he whispered.

He Tian moaned, a shiver running down his spine. Such simple words, but they meant so much right now, from Jian Yi. He held his gaze when he opened his mouth and slowly sucked the head of his sex into his mouth, sinking lower and lower on it in little bobs.

Jian Yi eventually pressed his eyes shut, shoulders jerking and breath heaving out of him in puffs. He looked like he had the other day, when He Tian had watched Mo blow him—like he was fighting his own pleasure. There was something insanely hot about driving him toward it anyway. He Tian couldn’t stop watching him, staring up the length of his body to catch the pleasure and agony battling on his face, arms jerking every so often as he fought the impulse to smother his sounds, trying to choke on them instead.

He Tian continued to bob his head, up and down, sucking with wet slurping sounds just to drive Jian Yi a little more crazy. He Tian had to pin Jian Yi’s hips to keep him from twisting them right up and off the bed in his struggle against his own end. He gasped huge gulps, let out a whimper that sounded like it could have been words, and then he finally came, eyes rolling back.

He Tian swallowed, stroking Jian Yi’s hips as he settled, and sucking him clean as he softened.

Jian Yi shuddered. “Oh shit…” he panted.

He Tian grinned and got up off the bed. It didn’t feel right to hang out in it or snuggle—the bed still very much Jian Yi and Zhengxi’s. Maybe someday it would feel normal to linger there.

Jian Yi sat up, still shaking a little, pupil’s blown from his own pleasure. “D-Do you want me to…” His eyes darting to He Tian’s crotch, a slight blush on his cheeks but not the same apprehension or panic he’d had before his own orgasm.

“Breakfast!” Mo shouted from the kitchen.

He Tian smiled and thumbed in the direction of the door behind him. “Coffee calls.”

 

* * *

 

“Wait!” Jian Yi was on his feet, legs wobbling for a second but holding. He looked nervous when He Tian did wait, staring at him patiently. But Jian Yi wasn’t sure how to say what he wanted to say—that he didn’t want He Tian to be blue balled or to think he was a prude or to get pissed that Jian Yi never put out or—

He Tian took the few steps between them, caught his chin, tipped his face up, and kissed him. Jian Yi shivered, tasting himself on the tongue that plunged into his mouth. His brain was still rebooting when the kiss ended, He Tian’s face close to his. “You seem to think I can’t control myself. Or that men like me don’t stop until they get what they want…” he said carefully, voice dark but not angry. “I’m not in a hurry, Jian Yi. I like you.”

And then he left, leaving the door open behind him.

Jian Yi blinked, listening to the voices in the kitchen and the clatter of plates. He blushed, not the red flare of embarrassment or lust but a soft pink, something born from too many feelings and something unexpectedly sweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was big!
> 
> Thanks to everyone that's tried this story out and taken the time to leave a comment. It means so much and is so appreciated!!


	7. Tabletop

He Tian took the stairs two at a time.

He had been halfway to his gym when Xi sent him a text message—an image of Jian Yi and Momo making out in the living room. About five seconds later he sent a clip of them, the make-out session escalating into heavy petting. And then he sent another clip—of the two of them mostly naked and 69ing on the coffee table.

He Tian actually fumbled the key in the door, mentally swore at himself for being so fucking desperate and then laughed a little because he was definitely, unapologetically, desperate to catch this show.

He flung the door open, dropped his gym bag, kicked the door shut and walked into the living room—shoes still on.

He stopped and for a second his vision adjusted as though he’d gone from darkness into light, taking in the scene and sounds of the two men on the coffee table. Mo was on his back, shirtless, pants open and Jian Yi blowing him. And Jian Yi was on all fours on top of him, also shirtless. Mo had his hands on Jian Yi’s hips, fingers under and over the hem of his sweatpants to hold them halfway down his pale hips, just enough to expose him, and use the leverage to lift himself—head bobbing up and down as he sucked loudly, deepthroating Jian Yi and driving moans up from the other man.

He Tian shivered, moving sideways to step onto the couch and sink down next to Xiang Yi. He didn’t take his eyes off the scene, but reached sideways to ruffle Xi’s hair. It had become a show of affection between them. He Tian ruffled Xi’s hair sometimes and Xi leaned against him sometimes—subtle, probably nothing to anyone that saw them, but it meant the world to them. It was a sign of acceptance and affection as they navigated a new relationship. “Thanks…” He Tian mumbled, distracted by the way Jian Yi twirled his tongue in against Mo’s cock.

He Tian’s jaw dropped a little when the muscles in Mo’s stomach jumped, hips squirming but resisting he urge to lift off the table and push up against Jian Yi. Mo was more considerate than people would guess. He rarely lost himself completely, thoughts always running out of his control. He Tian had spent years learning all the best ways to fuck Mo, to make him forget everything. But watching from the outside—watching his restraint and focus—He Tian was blown away.

Zhengxi moaned, the sound low and easily missed if He Tian weren’t sitting right next to him. The sound was so new to He Tian, he actually looked away from the tabletop show in front of them and glanced sideways at the other guy. For a second he thought he must have imagined it, because Zhengxi looked like the same cold, guarded asshole as always. His expression was focused, but not glassy eyed or flushed. Just looking at him, anyone could think he was just engrossed in a show on tv. And then He Tian noticed the bulge in the front of his sweats. He grinned and looked at their boyfriends again.

He Tian chewed his lower lip again. “Any chance you would…” he muttered, voice low and dark with want.

“We’re not there yet,” Zhengxi said.

He Tian grinned, hearing the smile on the other guy’s voice. He considered blowing Zhengxi, but couldn’t quite convince himself to stop watching Jian Yi and Mo.

Jian Yi made a keening sound, body arching a little. Zhengxi leaned forward, the first time he’d moved since He Tian sat down. “He’s gonna come…” he whispered.

Jian Yi’s fingers tightened against Mo’s jeans, like he was trying not to, head still bobbing over Mo’s cock.

Mo’s head pushed up, taking Jian Yi’s cock deeper, swallowing him into his throat and keeping him there, humming and sucking.

He Tian grinned, surprised how proud he was of that—of knowing exactly what it felt like to be blown by Mo—and for knowing that Mo had every intention of holding out the longest, of winning whatever this was.

Jian Yi came, having to lift his head and pop Mo’s dick out of his mouth to gasp and shudder, teeth clicking together when Mo swallowed everything. He Tian and Zhengxi groaned in unison at the sight, Mo sucking and bobbing, head slowly giving up more and more until he fell back on the table, shivering.

He Tian watched, fighting the impulse to get involved—to intervene maybe. Because he knew Mo would get up and leave like the game was over if Jian Yi didn’t recover fast. Mo had never been a greedy lover. He wouldn’t expect gratification from Jian Yi, no matter how much he wanted it or how far they’d already gone. It had taken years before he’d straight up say what he wanted from He Tian and even now, sometimes, he just couldn’t. Already, he could see Mo’s breath evening, eyes opening. He would expect Jian Yi to be finished playing now that he’d come.

Mo’s body tensed, shoulders lifting off the table and hand patting Jian Yi’s hip to move.

He Tian started to lean forward. He’d finish Mo himself.

A hand caught his shoulder, Zhengxi’s fingers twisting in the sleeve of his tshirt and eyes still on the scene.

Jian Yi hadn’t moved for Mo, still shivering out his own pleasure but hand wrapped around Mo’s erection. Before Mo could get a full syllable out, Jian Yi had recovered, dropped his head and started sucking again. Mo’s head thunked back against the table with a string of sounds.

It didn’t take long and He Tian and Zhengxi didn’t look away. When Mo came, they both moaned with him. He Tian slumped back into the couch and combed his fingers through his hair, scraping his scalp as though to somehow convince his body to stop pumping blood straight to his dick.

Jian Yi turned around, standing up and pulling Mo into a sitting position. They kissed and He Tian wondered if watching them should have felt more voyeuristic than it had. It had been sexy as hell, but not as creepy as he would have imagined. It hadn’t felt intrusive…maybe because they were on the coffee table where he usually ate breakfast.

And then they were looking back at them. Jian Yi grinned, looking sated and mischievous as fuck. He leaned over and whispered in Mo’s ear. Mo was still catching his breath but raised an eyebrow, interested, and then smiled sideways and shrugged. Jian Yi waited, staring at the redhead until he actually nodded and then nudged his chin toward He Tian.

Jian Yi nibbled his lower lip but stepped over the little table, into the space in front of He Tian. He glanced between He Tian and Zhengxi, holding his boyfriend’s gaze when he slid down to his knees in front of He Tian. His hands moved up He Tian’s thighs, and he held his breath for a second, waiting. Zhengxi could end it with a look—less than a word. Everything about this fourway was new ground, all boundaries to be tested because what they thought they were up for might change in a flash. And if Zhengxi called it, if he wasn’t into watching Jian Yi blow He Tian, that would be the end of it. No one was going to throw a fit or argue.

But Zhengxi didn’t stop it. Whatever looks they had exchanged had left Jian Yi smiling, and He Tian bit back a moan when he palmed him through his gym pants.

Those wheat eyes looked up at him and He Tian shivered. He didn’t mean to, but he glanced at Mo. What little He Tian and Jian Yi had done so far, they hadn’t done any of it in front of Mo. The redhead knew, of course. He Tian had told him, still watching for any signs of regret or jealousy. As much as He Tian wanted whatever this was with the four of them, he would never jeopardize Mo’s happiness for it.

His redhead flashed him a lazy grin with just enough glint of teeth to make it mischievous. He Tian relaxed and lifted his hips a little when Jian Yi tugged at his gym pants, pulling them down enough to have his erection freed.

 

* * *

 

Mo watched Jian Yi settle between He Tian’s legs and saw the look Zhengxi gave, a smile and a nod. He Tian’s eyes were dark and glazed, the way they got when he was focused on sex. But Zhengxi looked almost exactly the same as always and suddenly Mo was unsure what to do—which felt stupid, because he knew exactly what he was doing. He might not be good at much, but he was pretty sure he was great at blowing. Admittedly, until recently, he’d only ever done that to He Tian, but it had held true for Jian Yi too.

He slid off the table, onto his knees in front of Zhengxi. Nerves clawed up his spine. Why was he so nervous? What if Xi wasn’t interested? What if he was just going along with this for Jian Yi? That was okay, wasn’t it? As long as he got off. Mo’s stomach knotted, but he moved closer, touching Xi’s knee, more relieved than he’d ever admit when those legs spread to let him even closer. He almost jumped when he realized Xi was staring at him, rather than watching Jian Yi and He Tian.

Mo looked away almost as soon as he caught those eyes looking back at him, hating the blush he knew spread over his face. Fuck! Why did this feel like a big deal? He reached forward and unbuttoned and unzipped Xi’s pants, surprised at how the other man’s chest moved, a breath jumping in his throat. It was then that he noticed the goosebumps on Xi’s skin and the way the muscles in his abdomen jumped every time Mo’s fingers brushed his skin.

“Mo…” Xi started to say. Something about it sounded unsure, maybe even soft.

Mo pulled Xi’s cock out and stroked it, hurrying to wrap his mouth around him before he could say anything more—afraid of the rejection and maybe even more so the possibility of gentle words. He sucked and swallowed around Xi’s flesh, shivering in relief when he heard him moan above him. He didn’t chance a glance up at first, head bobbing up and down, fast and then slow. He only looked up when he was sure Xi’s head would be tossed back or eyes closed, moving closer to his own orgasm. But when he looked up through his lashes, Xi was looking back at him, eyes glassy now and mouth a little open to gasp and groan. He was on the edge, but watching—still watching. Mo shivered and closed his eyes. Xi’s fingertips touched Mo’s scalp, stroking his head and to the back of his neck but not pushing or trying to control the rhythm—just touching, like it was a rare opportunity, like that familiar act of tenderness was the goal of everything else and not just a side effect of a blowjob.

It was too much.

Mo didn’t even hear He Tian finish beside them, his mind racing.

Xi moaned, fingertips pressing gently against the back of Mo’s head. Careful even when his body moved involuntarily. “Mo,” he breathed his name, a warning that he was close.

Mo’s skin jumped when Jian Yi ran a hand along his back.

It was too much.

They were too soft. Too gentle.

Xi let out a low groan when he came, back arching and head pressing back against the couch, but hips carefully still. Careful. Even then! Mo sucked and swallowed and then finally fell back on his ass, trying to catch his breath like he was the one that just blew a load.

Jian Yi tackled him onto his back on the floor and Mo was grateful, the other man monopolizing him for a moment. The blond latched onto his face, hands against the sides of his head and mouth on his, tongue delving into Mo’s mouth to try to dig out all traces of Zhengxi’s load. Mo shivered and let him clean his mouth, reveling in some of that greedy roughness as Jian Yi did whatever the fuck Jian Yi wanted. It turned into lazy kissing, not unlike how all of this had started.

When Jian Yi eased back, Mo extracted himself.

Jian Yi sat up, stretching and deciding suddenly that he was hungry. “Should we order something? Or get dressed?” the blond asked.

Mo got up, scrubbing a hand over his face but not really look at any of them. “Yeah, sure. I’m gonna shower,” he said, already leaving the living room for the hallway.

He just needed a little space. Just needed to breathe and not think about the way Zhengxi made his stomach knot and his heart beat fast. Why couldn’t it be easy like it was with Jian Yi? Everything between Mo and Jian Yi had happened smoothly. Sure, they’d been play flirting for years—sitting in each other’s laps, whispering, sending dirty text messages and it had all escalated into making out and fooling around smoothly. But he also knew what Jian Yi was thinking, it was always there on his dumb face! Mo did not know what Zhengxi was thinking, or why he looked at him like that, or why he was so careful. Mo was not breakable or sweet or… Or what?

He went into his room rather than the bathroom, forgetting his excuse of showering. He paced and circled, looking for something to do or some way to make himself stop thinking about it. His hands pressed at the sides of his head, tears pricking his eyes so he shut his lids. Fuck! What was this?

“Mo?”

He froze, arms still curled up against the sides of his head and eyes squeezed shut. No. Nonono. He’d left the door unlocked. He heard it close gently. Fuck!

 

* * *

 

Jian Yi had started running through food options, grabbing a box of delivery menus from under the couch to dump on the coffee table.

Zhengxi watched Mo leave the living room, trying not to cringe. He had fucked up. He hadn’t even kissed Mo yet. But he’d been so turned on he could barely think when Mo sat between his knees, touching his thighs through his jeans. But the redhead had looked nervous. He’d blushed. Mo had thought then to stop him, to say something—to make it clear he didn’t have to do anything just before Jian Yi and He Tian were. But then it had all just happened. Fuck!

He Tian had also seen the way Mo fled the room, and was getting up to follow. Zhengxi caught his arm, standing. “Can I try..?”

He Tian paused and for a second Zhengxi was sure he’d say no. Jian Yi was unfolding menus and talking about what he wanted to eat—absolutely not caring that the other two weren’t paying attention.

To his surprised, He Tian nodded once and sat back down, leaning forward to poke at some of the menus. Jian Yi gaped at whatever his suggestion had been and immediately swiped it off the table, no longer an option.

Zhengxi moved quietly down the hallway, surprised when he found the bathroom empty. He was more surprised when he opened Mo and He Tian’s bedroom door and found the redhead turned away from him, arms curled up against his head like he was bracing for impact. “Mo?”

The redhead froze.

He closed the door.

Mo uncurled, slowly dropping his arms and squaring his shoulders, like this was going to be a fight. “What?” his voice was raw.

Zhengxi cringed because Mo still hadn’t turned toward him and couldn’t see it—the sound of his voice had been like a punch to the gut and he knew if Mo turned around his eyes would be red and maybe even teary still. “I’m sorry,” he ground out.

Mo did turn around then, and in the thin sunlight glowing through the curtains, he did see the tears in his eyes. How could a guy always look angry even when teary? “What? For what?”

Zhengxi stayed where he was, a few steps from the door and more than a few from Mo. “I should have given you a way out. I told you I’d help you if things got to be too much with the fourway stuff…” He looked at the floor, ashamed. He’d fucked this up but what made him feel sick was the idea that he’d let Mo be pressured into blowing him.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he snapped.

Zhengxi looked up, surprised.

“You think I blew you because I thought I had to?” Mo said.

Zhengxi winced before he could stop his own reaction. He didn’t like reacting. He didn’t like giving himself away like that as a kid and the old habit had become a part of him now.

Mo snapped a laugh, but the tears were still there in his eyes. “That’s not it. Forget it.”

“You were freaked out,” Zhengxi continued.

“No, I wasn’t.”

“You were shaking.”

“No, I wasn’t,” Mo snapped, taking a step closer. If he meant to turn this into a fist fight, it would be one-sided—Zhengxi knew he wouldn’t hit him back, probably wouldn’t even stop him.

“You ran away.”

Mo bared his teeth and took another step closer, on the edge of shoving. “That’s not why.”

“Then tell me why,” Zhengxi pressed, voice even.

Mo glared at him. “You were… You act like… I’m not…” he tried again and again to get it out, to explain, and Zhengxi studied every ripple of expression and angry click of his teeth. Those tears were going to spill. Zhengxi waited, desperate to hear him explain it any way he could. He wanted to know. He needed to understand.

Mo groaned and spun away again, pacing the room like a cornered cat. “Just fuckin forget it…”

“No. Are you sill okay with Jian Yi and He Tian?” Zhengxi pressed. He’d never been big on driving conversations—he had Jian Yi for that—but he’d guess until he ran out of words if that’s what it took for Mo to explain this.

“Yeah, of course,” Mo answered, nodding, no hesitation there.

“You don’t want out of the fourway?”

“No.” Mo paused and looked at him. “Do you?”

“No,” Zhengxi was just as fast to answer, just as certain. “You said you liked me,” he continued. “Do you still?”

“Of course,” Mo bristled at the question but not at answering it.

Zhengxi took a step closer, deeper into the room. “But you freaked out just now.”

“No…”

“Stop that,” Zhengxi snapped.

Mo glared at him.

“You were telling the truth. Don’t start lying now,” Zhengxi said, another step closer.

Mo realized he was getting closer this time, pivoting to face him and inching a step back.

“Was it something I did?” Zhengxi pressed. He needed to know.

“No.”

“If you lie to me now, we can’t do this. You know that, right?” Zhengxi asked, surprised to hear his frustration leaking into his words, grinding them out. He didn’t want to pull away from Mo. He didn’t want to give this up already. But he couldn’t do it if there was a chance it was hurting him—if there was a chance he wasn’t into it. “Was it something I did?” he asked again, voice hard this time and gaze boring into the redhead’s.

Mo stood so still for so long that Zhengxi thought maybe he was trying to disappear. Finally his lip curled and he let out a string of swear words. “You don’t have to do this!” Mo snapped, yelling. “You don’t have to act like you like me or treat me like Jian Yi! I’m not soft! I know you got into this because Jian Yi wanted to and you don’t mind fucking us too but you don’t have to be nice about it! Fuck! Just fucking take what you want and stop being… Stop being…” he floundered, the words flooding out of him and dragging some of those tears over his lashes, his body jerking when each one fell like they startled him.

Zhengxi stared, for a second just shocked that he hadn’t seen this coming. Mo had been playing tough since they were kids. He Tian had dragged him out of a bad childhood and a bad home and most days now he seemed so happy, but that didn’t make it all go away, did it? Had he ever been with anyone but He Tian? Anyone that didn’t treat him like shit? And how many years had He Tian and Mo spent in school fighting each other before finally dating?

“Just, stop fucking playing with me!” Mo shouted. “And don’t look at me like I’m…”

_Important_ , Zhengxi thought, starting to fill in the blanks where Mo just couldn’t say what was in his head, where something cut off because maybe it would hurt him too much to actually put it out there.

Mo clawed at the side of his head, looking away. “When I blow you, just take what you want and when you want to fuck me, just—”

A jolt went through Zhengxi’s body and he closed the distance between them fast, head shaking because he didn’t want Mo to say the rest. He didn’t need to hear it. He understood now. His arms curled around the redhead, muscles ready when Mo jerked back in surprised, shaking and trying to get free. He held on, one hand cradling the back of his head and the other arm curled around his waist, hugging him tight. “Shut up,” he whispered.

Mo shoved at his sides, trying to push him away but not really—not throwing any punches.

“If I act like I like you, it’s because I do,” Zhengxi said quietly against Mo’s cheek. “I wouldn’t have agreed to this relationship if I didn’t like both you and He Tian. If I look at you like you’re special, it’s because you are. If I touch you like you’re soft, it’s because you’re important and this is new and I don’t want to fuck it up. I want you, and not just because I’m attracted to you.” Mo had held his breath when Zhengxi was talking. He realized because he let it out in a gush of air that shook his whole body. He had stopped pushing at Zhengxi’s sides, his hands curled in his shirt and holding on. “I want you,” Zhengxi repeated.

Mo quieted, relaxing and finally just leaning into the hug.

Jian Yi was shouting in the living room—the food debating growing loud.

Zhengxi let go of Mo slowly. “If you’re going to shower you better do it. That one’s going to lose his damned mind if we don’t feed him…”

“I already fed him.” Mo cocked a sideways grin and Zhengxi saw the mischief in it even in the afternoon light.

He smiled and shrugged. “Not enough I guess…” He started for the door and then stopped, like he’d forgotten something. He hadn’t forgotten. He just hadn’t been sure if he should. Zhengxi turned back to catch Mo grabbing a towel from his closet. He surprised him, right behind him when he turned around. Zhengxi bumped his hips into Mo’s pressing him back against the closet door. For a second he just stood there, impossibly close, and drank in that surprised, excited, flushed look on the redhead. Mo’s eyes dilated, his mouth opened a little, and a hundred emotions warred behind those eyes.

Zhengxi hadn’t lied. He wanted Mo. Wanted him happy and excited and sometimes off-balance and breathless. Just before Mo could collect himself and snap off something like “what the hell?”, Zhengxi kissed him. It was slow, soft but with too much tongue not to be lewd. It was full of want—so if Mo doubted it later, he could remember this even more than the words.

He pulled back when they were both breathless, and smiled at the dazed surprise on Mo’s face. Zhengxi should have kissed him before—and might always regret having let it happen after so much else had happened—but he would try not to dwell on it and if that pang of regret and guilt popped up, he’d just smother it under another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while. It's not for lack of love for the story! I just run out of steam sometimes. But I haven't abandoned or stopped thinking about this story. I have plans and I absolutely love getting to write for you guys. You're such a welcoming and positive fandom and your feedback has been incredible! Thank you so much for reading!


	8. Whispers

When Zhengxi returned to the living room, it was quiet. The front door banged shut. “Where’s Jian Yi?”

He Tian groaned, laying on the couch now. “He’s insane. He insisted on fried chicken from this shop that closes in like an hour. The shop said they wouldn’t deliver. It was too late. He demanded they make his food anyway because he NEEDS it,” He Tian paused to look very tired by the whole thing. “So he said if they made it, he’d run over and pick it up before they closed.”

Zhengxi nodded like this was normal.

He Tian knew it was normal, he’d done this plenty of times with his roommates and usually didn’t even try to get involved in the discussion of what to order, because it always ended up being something complicated and stupid with Jian Yi at the lead. But he’d made an exception today, because it seemed like Zhengxi and Mo needed to talk.

Mo had looked…overwhelmed. He’d heard his redhead yelling, so at least he hadn’t clammed up. “How did it go?” He Tian asked, moving his legs and sitting up to offer Zhengxi a spot on the couch.

The blond sat down, on one end. He Tian wasn’t sure if he should take that as a sign that things weren’t great. Xi had made a habit in the last few weeks of sitting closer, almost touching if not touching—a huge difference from the Xi who had always sat as far from contact as possible. “It went fine,” he said, unreadable as usual.

He Tian raised a dark eyebrow, studying him. “Fine,” he said as well. He’d know as soon as he saw Mo how it went—he could read that bastard any day.

He Tian got up and went into their open kitchen, getting a beer from the fridge. Down the hall, he spotted Mo walking to the bathroom, towel slung over his shoulder. His eyes were red-rimmed and his cheeks flushed, but he didn’t look upset anymore—just embarrassed. He watched him disappear into the bathroom, the door closing and the water soon turning on. He Tian grabbed a second beer and came back to the living room, handing one to Zhengxi. “I know why he was acting like that…” he said casually enough. “But why were you tense?”

There were a lot of questions there, a lot of uncertainties. Maybe Zhengxi was having second thoughts about all of this? Maybe it had been too much seeing Jian Yi and He Tian like that? Jian Yi and Mo were somehow different. They’d been handsy with each other for years now. At least for He Tian, watching Mo with Jian Yi had been thrilling but not at all the same sort of shock as watching him with Xi. It had been hard not to reach out though—not to soothe that rising anxiety in his boyfriend. He had to let them figure it out—let them experience their own relationship.

Xi sipped the beer he’d been given, looking a little lost in his own thoughts. “I thought he was doing it because Jian Yi was with you and…” he trailed off and then shrugged.

He Tian looked at him, surprised and understanding why he wouldn’t want to say it. He’d thought Mo blew him because he felt pressured to? “I wouldn’t let that happen.”

Xi looked back at him then, and He Tian saw the ghosts of guilt and regret in the other man’s eyes and a whole lot of relief. “Has Mo had other relationships?” Zhengxi asked, taking another sip of his beer.

He Tian almost laughed. All four of them had found each other early. But he knew Zhengxi and Jian Yi hadn’t really gotten together until after high school. Xi had dated a couple girls but nothing serious as far as He Tian knew. “Not really. She Li, for a while before I showed up…”

Zhengxi rolled the bottle in his hand back and forth, obviously wanting to ask something specific.

He Tian could imagine what it was. Mo had a certain reaction to affirmation and affection, and being his only real boyfriend—it probably didn’t make He Tian look good.

Xi put the beer on the table. “He expects me to take things from him…” he said it as vaguely as possible but He Tian knew exactly what he was talking about. “He doesn’t think I need to be nice to him.” He was trying so hard not to be accusatory and He Tian almost loved him a little for that—and for asking, for pushing. Because it looked bad and because someone should care enough to question even him. No one had ever asked why Mo was the way he was before—no one had ever considered the possibility that He Tian had been the one to fuck him up.

Zhengxi finally looked at him, face impassive but He Tian saw the conflict in his eyes, the worry that he was going to hurt their oh-so new relationship with a false accusation or that he was going to discover something he couldn’t ignore.

He Tian did love him then, because he knew Xi wouldn’t ignore it. This fucker would try to save Mo from him if it was true.

Zhengxi was waiting for an explanation, or an argument. He’d even put his drink down, hands free if things turned physical.

He Tian didn’t flinch or look away. The shower was still running—Mo out of earshot. “His dad was an asshole,” he said. He’d have to tell Mo later that Xi knew. That wouldn’t be fun. But he wouldn’t tell him his word choice. “He was abusive, emotionally and physically. He treated both Mo and his mom like punching bags, but his mom still worshiped him—still loved him. And so did Mo. Still does, I guess.” He Tian wrinkled his nose and took another drink to try to hide the snarl. Parents were complicated relationships. They fucked you up and you still loved them—no matter how you tried to hide it.

Xi looked away, not happy but at least it wasn’t He Tian that did the damage to Mo’s self-worth. His head snapped up suddenly to meet He Tian’s gaze again, the relief wearing off to leave him worried about damage he might have done to their relationship. “I had to ask…” he said, the closest to an apology he could get, because he wasn’t really sorry for asking.

He Tian knew that whatever their relationship was, it was the oddest of the foursome. They had never clicked as easily as any other pairing in the group. They had cohabitated perfectly, existing around each other for years with very little contact or conversation. It was easy being around Xi. He never asked He Tian questions, never poked and prodded or expected anything from him. Everything had changed when they started sharing Mo and Jian Yi. Maybe that was what they’d always had in common—why they’d always been able to coexist with so little communication. They both understood how the other loved—how deeply and dangerously. It was one of the reasons He Tian had been okay with the foursome, because he knew Zhengxi was sharing just as big a part of his heart as he was by trusting him with Jian Yi’s happiness and safety.

He had never really expected much between himself and Zhengxi until that morning they first talked about terms and Xi kissed him.

“I know,” he promised. “I know how it looks. He’s a fucking basket case.” He smiled when he said it because Mo was _his_ basket case. “He’ll get used to you and then only get weird if you say something sweet…” He Tian looked at Zhengxi curiously. “ ** _Do_ **you say sweet things?”

Xi shrugged once and leaned back into the couch, giving nothing away.

He Tian laughed and shook his head.

“What’s it like…when you have sex with him?”

He Tian paused mid-reach for his beer, and then recovered and picked up the drink, thinking about how to answer that and, more importantly, what information Zhengxi was really looking for. “Do you want to watch?”

The door opened around a corner of wall, the smell of chicken and rice pouring into the apartment. “I made it!” Jian Yi shouted, victorious.

Zhengxi rolled to his feet but paused, glancing back at He Tian. “Yeah. I want to watch,” he said, voice quiet but the hint of a smile in the corner of his mouth. He Tian caught it just before the blond walked away to meet Jian Yi in the kitchen.

“I’ll go tell Mo dinner’s here,” He Tian said, another sip of beer before putting it down and walking out of the living room.

The bathroom door was open, the mirror still steamed over inside.

He opened their bedroom door and found Mo pulling on a pair of clean pants, towel still over his head. “I’ll be out in a second…” he said.

He Tian didn’t nod and turn back. He walked into the room and pulled the towel off his boyfriend’s head, dropping it on the floor. Mo’s skin was still damp, still radiating heat from his shower. He always showered too hot. But He Tian never said anything when they showered together. He’d burn for him any day. His long fingers slid over Mo’s scalp, ruffling wet, red hair. “You okay?”

Mo groaned and turned around, looking up at him. Yes, his eyes were still puffy but now he could blame the shower. “Don’t be stupid.” He started to move, to reach for the drawer where his tshirts were all neatly folded and tucked away. He Tian caught his arm and pulled him back before he reached it. Mo glared at him and He Tian smiled, he loved that glare. “I’m fine.”

He Tian stared at him for another few seconds before nodding. “Okay.” But he didn’t let go of him yet.

“What?”

“He knows,” he said, no more smiles.

Mo blinked at him, not understanding before finally he did. “You told him about my dad?” He sounded raw, like a kid again—embarrassed and small.

“Yeah,” He Tian wouldn’t lie and he wouldn’t let Mo walk into anything without all the details. Would it be a betrayal if he did? If he had secrets with other people? Maybe. It didn’t matter, because He Tian didn’t want secrets with anyone but Mo. “Nothing detailed, but yeah.”

Mo curled his lip and jerked his arm free of He Tian’s hold. “That was a dick move.”

He Tian waited while Mo went to the dresser and dug out a shirt. “He wanted to know why you act like you do when people care about you. He was worried I was abusing you.”

Mo stopped suddenly, shirt in hands. He twisted around to stare at He Tian and suddenly those red eyes were unreadable. Oh, he was pissed, he could see that but at who? “Who the fuck is he to think that? How dare he—”

“He’s our friend,” He Tian interrupted, though he loved Mo’s immediate defense on his behalf. “He’s more than our friend and I like that he worried. He _should_ worry, if he cares about you.”

Mo winced at that, wrinkling his nose like caring was gross, and pulled his shirt on.

He Tian moved when Mo started for the door, turning him and pressing him up against the wall beside it—caging him in with his arms and pinning him with his hips. Mo pushed back a little, testing the physical presence of He Tian—not pushing him away but making sure he was real. His cheeks turned a little pink and he stared at a point on He Tian’s chest rather than looking up at him.

“Is it too much?” He Tian whispered, studying his redhead.

Mo shook his head, fingertips running along He Tian’s waist, under his shirt and over his skin along the top of his pants. He did it idly, like he didn’t notice it, and He Tian would never risk pointing it out because he might stop. Mo did that when he was thinking, when he was happy with He Tian’s nearness.

“Tell me,” his whisper became secretive, a small smile on his lips.

Mo blushed a little more. “I like him. And I like Jian Yi. And I love you.”

He Tian exhaled a shudder. He hadn’t expected that last bit. Mo had said it before, but not often. He took his chin in hand and lifted his face, until those red eyes looked back at him.

“You were right to tell him. I don’t want anyone thinking you…” Mo wrinkled his nose and shook his head a little.

He Tian kissed him and Mo kissed back, biting his bottom lip before shoving He Tian a step back. “I want food before Jian Yi eats everything…” Mo said, turning and walking out of the room.

He Tian followed, grinning. “Oh, I almost forgot,” he said when they were walking into the kitchen to join the other two at the table. Jian Yi was already packing his mouth with rice and chicken. Xi had waited but made it look casual, like he was just about to start and they just happened to show up at the right time. Mo sat down, picking up his chopsticks and grabbing a large piece of chicken off Jian Yi’s plate.

“What did you forget?” Mo asked idly, not really paying attention.

He Tian sat down. “I told Xixi he could watch us fuck.”

Jian Yi choked, coughing up bits of food across the table and Mo’s eyes widened, for a second unsure where to put his shock—on his boyfriend or on Jian Yi for literally spitting on his food.

Xi pretended not to notice, smacking Jian Yi on the back a few times while finishing his beer.


	9. Sheep

He Tian woke up, rolled over, and grabbed his phone off the bedside table in the dark. It lit the room with the glow of the screen and he groaned. It was only 02.12 in the morning. Mo had picked up a night shift. He wouldn’t be off until 04.00. He Tian never said anything about Mo’s odd jobs, not since they had a blow out fight two years ago about money. He Tian never saw money as a problem but Mo got cagey if he felt like he wasn’t contributing financially. He saved up money, so he’d never be caught unable to pay his own part. Not that He Tian ever gave him the chance. But Mo wouldn’t take money from He Tian, not since he stopped doing chores for him and started sleeping with him. Their first break up, lasting all of two months, had been because He Tian kept trying to give him cash.

Mo had gotten pissed and said he wasn’t a whore. He Tian had laughed and offered to pay him more if he wanted to count the sex as chores. He had never seen Mo that upset before. He’d just walked out. It was right after high school and He Tian had absolutely no idea where he went. He just vanished for a month and then ghosted him for another one before He Tian finally convinced him to let it go. So now he didn’t complain about Mo’s random jobs, stupid hours, and occasional night shifts—even though he couldn’t sleep right without him.

He heard Jian Yi and Zhengxi’s door open and one of them pad down the hall and into he living room, a voice hushed and whisper yelling.

For a second, he considered not being nosy. He probably wouldn’t have even been tempted a month ago, before they started their group relationship.

He rolled out of bed, unable to sleep anyway. He flicked on the lights and paused long enough to pull the front of his sweatpants out and snap a dick pic. He sent it to Mo with a “miss you” for text, and then tossed his phone on the bed and went out into the dark hall.

The other bedroom door was still open and he heard Jian Yi out in the living room, still whisper yelling.

He Tian stopped at the bedroom and looked in. The lamp by the bed was one and Xi was sitting up in a pile of covers, shirtless, and looking at his phone. He glanced up when He Tian stood there, surprised for a second and then giving a tired shrug. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

He Tian raised an eyebrow. Somehow the words weren’t all that reassuring. It meant something was wrong, didn’t it? He turned and started down the hall, moving just slow enough that Xi could easily tell him not to if he really meant it. He didn’t.

He Tian found Jian Yi pacing in the dark living room, phone to his ear and teeth gnawing at his lower lip. He nodded angrily, like the person on the phone could hear. “Yeah. Yeah. I know. Stop it.”

He Tian crept closer. He could hear the voice on the phone now, shrill and yelling.

Jian Yi clawed a hand through his pale hair, almost jittery. He cringed at something she said, his breath labored. “Stop. Just… Just sleep it off. No. I’m not calling you a—Mom, please.”

He Tian took another step closer and Jian Yi jumped when he realized he was there, body turning toward him and going suddenly still, eyes big and a little teary. She was still talking, raging in his ear, but he didn’t dare look away from He Tian.

He Tian took a step closer and Jian Yi took one back. Slowly, he backed the slender blond into the dark corner of the room, closing the distance between them. Jian Yi’s pulse jumped against his throat and He Tian wished he could read minds—wished he could know exactly why Jian Yi looked afraid just then. Was it because He Tian could practically hear his mother on the phone? Was it embarrassment and vulnerability? Or was it the old fear, that whatever horrible thing she was saying was right in front of him?

He Tian leaned in, not missing the little shake of Jian Yi’s head as if to ask him not to. He turned his head, ear close to the phone in Jian Yi’s hand. The woman on the line sounded drunk, in the middle of a rant that broke sometimes with a cruel laugh.

He Tian stood up straight and looked down at Jian Yi. There were tears in his eyes now. Still unreadable. Someday, he would know Jian Yi well enough to read all those expressions.

He held out his hand patiently.

Jian Yi jumped, actually jumped—like he had that day in the kitchen when He Tian had scared him.

He Tian was careful not to react, waiting.

Jian Yi shook his head a little.

He Tian waited.

Finally, slowly, Jian Yi handed him the phone.

He Tian held it to his own ear. Jian Yi’s mom was in the middle of describing how she’d protected him as a child from all the dark sides of men. She went into detail, violent ugly detail, of what would have happened to Jian Yi if she hadn’t—somehow making it brutally clear that it was his own fault, that there was something about Jian Yi—something wrong. Something that attracted violence and sex. That he was the sort of pretty that made men crazy—that they’d all use him and throw him away like the trash he was.

He Tian leaned against the wall, listening and for the first time in his life, a little grateful that he didn’t have a mother.

“And now you’re living with that Zhan Zheng Xi?” she snapped so loud that even Jian Yi had heard the name. He winced and looked up at He Tian and the phone, reaching for a it timidly. He Tian shook his head and kept it. “You think I don’t know what you do with him? You think I don’t know what a slut you are, despite all my efforts? You probably fuck everything that walks in that door,” she had turned angry more than cruel—no longer getting the same joy from her venomous words. “He’s just using you. You’re no better than a mistress. He’ll fuck you until he finds a good wife and then throw you away—throw you to the next man that walks by and picks you up like the—”

“ _Aunty_ ,” He Tian purred darkly.

She went quiet.

“Where’s my son?” she demanded. “Put my son—”

“No.” He Tian kept his voice even, deep and menacing but not raised. “You seem worried for Jian Yi’s safety and future.”

“How dare you—”

Jian Yi stared straight at He Tian and he stared back, even when he spoke on the phone. “You don’t need to worry. No one is every going to throw Jian Yi away. And we’re not going to let anyone hurt him. So, get some rest, aunty.” He hung up before she could get out another word.

Jian Yi was blushing but cringed when he hung up, taking the phone back from him and looking at the dark screen. “She’ll call back…” he whined.

“How often does she call?”

Jian Yi shrugged a naked shoulder, his pajama pants low on his hips. “Once a month maybe.”

“Always like that?” he asked.

Jian Yi frowned and that was a yes. He turned the sound on his phone off and shoved it into his pocket, making his pants sag more on that hip. “Thanks…” he said it so quietly He Tian almost missed it. “For saying that… and for not being mean to her.”

He Tian decided not to say what he would have liked to have said to her. “Does she usually say that stuff about Xi?”

Jian Yi’s pale gaze shot up to him. “Don’t say anything.”

He Tian frowned. “You know none of that stuff she says is true, right?”

Jian Yi shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. Of course,” he said, but it sounded thin, full of a lifetime of built in doubt.

He Tian took a step closer, sliding his hand over Jian Yi’s waist, feeling his skin jump under his touch. “And you know I meant what I said, right?”

Jian Yi blushed bright and looked away, huffing a little laugh. “Sure…”

He Tian shook his head, pulling Jian Yi in close. He dipped his head and kissed him, sliding his tongue into Jian Yi’s mouth and moaning darkly when the blond sucked at it. He turned them, took one step and pushed Jian Yi up against the wall. The blond let out a breathy gasp and He Tian caught his hands before they could grab at him, pushing his arms up against the wall overhead. Jian Yi squirmed and He Tian pushed his hips into the other man’s, rubbing against him until Jian Yi let out a string of sounds and his whole face turned pink. “Has Zhengxi ever hurt you, Jian Yi?” he asked, knowing the answer.

“No,” Jian Yi answered, still squirming against He Tian, seeming not to realize how he was humping He Tian’s thigh, his erection pressing against the soft restraint of his pants.

“Has Mo?”

“Of course not,” he whined, still rubbing.

He Tian ran his tongue and teeth along the shell of Jian Yi’s ear, feeling his pulse jump. “Do you think I would?”

Jian Yi shivered but stopped moving, pulse racing under He Tian’s lips. “N-Not on purpose…”

He Tian was glad his face was buried in Jian Yi’s neck, so he couldn’t see any flicker of hurt there on his features. Or worse—anger. That wouldn’t help. Jian Yi had an idea of what sex with him would be like and it had left an impression, an impression that had grown into something frightening. But He Tian realized Jian Yi was still hard, still shivering with want. He licked his lips, considering. “What are you afraid I’ll do?” he asked, probing. Either, this was a turn on for Jian Yi, or he was taking a pretty big risk of killing the mood.

Jian Yi whined, arms tugging at He Tian’s hold on his wrists overhead. “I-I…”

He Tian rubbed his thigh against the other man’s arousal, still there. “I want to fuck you,” he said bluntly.

Jian Yi almost choked on the sound that jumped up in his throat, his body jerking a little in his hold but his erection throbbing.

He Tian grinned against his skin. Oh, this he could work with. Jian Yi was afraid of what could go wrong, of all the horrible stories he’d been fed, but he was still turned on by He Tian—by what he’d seen of He Tian and Mo.

“Y-You c-can’t…” Jian Yi stuttered now, voice breathy and hips shaking for his effort not to rut against He Tian’s thigh. “You promised Xixi…” he murmured, words thick.

He Tian nipped at Jian Yi’s neck and shivered when the blond moaned despite his efforts, body jerking against his. He smiled. “I did, didn’t I.” He let go of Jian Yi and caught the flicker of relief and utter disappointment on the blonde’s face just before he swept him up and threw him over his shoulder.

He hadn’t forgotten about his agreement with Xi. In fact, he thought he understood more and more why Zhengxi had insisted he be present the first time they had sex. He needed someone who knew Jian Yi completely. He carried him down the hall and into Jian Yi and Zhengxi’s bedroom. Xi looked up from his phone, still sitting in bed against the headboard. He raised one eyebrow questioningly.

He Tian stayed in the doorway. “Can I fuck him in here or would you rather we did it in my bed?”

Jian Yi whined but his erection was against He Tian’s shoulder now and still proving his interest.

Zhengxi looked them both over, seeming to consider everything in a second. And then he kicked the covers off the bed and nudged his head toward the other side, directing He Tian.

He Tian tossed Jian Yi down, the blond bouncing and red face. “I-I-I don’t… I…” he stammered.

Xi put away his phone and He Tian caught Jian Yi’s legs, pulling his pants and bright yellow underwear off of him, freeing his erection. Jian Yi whined and tried to hide himself. “W-Wait!”

He Tian slid out of his pants and crawled onto the bed, over the other man. Jian Yi twisted, trying to crawl up the bed and reaching for Xi. He Tian grabbed his thighs and pulled him back down the bed. He rubbed his hips down between Jian Yi’s legs, sliding their erections together, and shivered at the way the blond gasped and arched, eyes losing focus. He Tian bit his own lip to keep from moaning, wanting to hear every sound Jian Yi made.

He kept rubbing them together until Jian Yi’s sounds became sloppy and breathy, body twitching and arms curling over his face, trying to hide.

“Lube?” He Tian asked Xi, his own voice darker and breathier than he had expected.

Xi was still sitting against the headboard at one side of the bed. He opened a bedside drawer and took something out, handing it to He Tian.

He Tian sat up and grabbed Jian Yi’s arms, unfolding them from his face and bringing Jian Yi’s hands down to his own thighs, having him hold himself bent and spread. He shook but he did it.

He Tian shuddered and just staring at him for a few seconds, pale body turning shades of pink and completely exposed. His eyes were red-rimmed and teary and his mouth open to heave out little whimpers. He was glad Xi was there. He wouldn’t have gotten this far otherwise—would have been too worried that Jian Yi wasn’t into it—wasn’t ready. He popped the lid on the lube and wet his fingers, watching Jian Yi’s face when he slid the first finger into him.

His neck arched, mouth opening wider and tongue almost flicking out.

He added a second finger and Jian Yi let out a whine and a thin, “No. No, please…”

He Tian pulled his fingers out immediately and sat back, his heart hammering in his throat and his gaze moving to Xi.

Xi didn’t look the least bit phased, shaking his head once. “He has a safe word. It’s ‘sheep’. He says ‘no’ a lot but if he wants it to stop, he’ll say ‘sheep’.”

Still, He Tian hesitated. Jian Yi was still holding his thighs spread, legs up. He panted for swallows of air, his eyes glassy, his cheeks pink, and his dick hard. But He Tian still couldn’t move, remembering a time when he’d been small and said no and no one had listened. Fuck. He dragged in a couple breaths and tried to shake it off. He wasn’t that guy, he wouldn’t do that, and this wasn’t that. This was Jian Yi.

Xi moved closer, carefully, slowly—like maybe he shouldn’t—maybe he was intruding or he wasn’t welcome. It had been an agreement after all, that he be there the first time, but he could think He Tian didn’t want the company. Still, Jian Yi would always be more Xi’s love than anyone else’s. They were partners.

He Tian had slept with a few other people in his life, but aside from Mo, they’d all been the aggressors in drunken one-night stands. And Mo was something different completely. He Tian had spent years loving and fighting with Mo before they finally slept together—he’d already known him so completely that he could tell the difference between interest and disinterest with a glance.

“He gets overwhelmed and in his head and freaked out about his own pleasure,” Xi explained, voice low. He wouldn’t have said any of it here and now if he didn’t see the doubt on He Tian’s face.

Jian Yi finally let go of his thighs, whining at Xi for talking about it and crossing his arms over his face again, trying to curl away into the side of the bed. “I-I’m sorry… Fuck… I… Just wait…” Jian Yi mumbled into his arms, taking deep breaths.

He Tian’s shoulders relaxed when he felt a hand on his arm, surprised that Zhengxi had touched him but comforted all the same. Xi waited, and He Tian realized he was expecting the contact to be rejected. He Tian leaned into it and Xi sighed a little and scooted closer. He was on his knees beside him, his chest to He Tian’s shoulder and his face leaning in to the side of He Tian’s face. “You’re okay. He’s okay. The reason I wanted to be here wasn’t just for him… It was for you. You’re not the only one in love with a basket case…”

He Tian shivered at the other man’s breath against his ear, his fingers ghosting up his naked spine.

“Trust me, you’ll know when he’s not into it. He won’t be shy about that. He’s only shy about wanting,” Xi whispered, fingers sliding up to the back of his neck. “Trust me,” he said again, all the promises in the world in those words. “I’ll be here. I won’t let you hurt him.”

He Tian shuddered. Jian Yi was in a ball, seeming to try to get himself composed. That wasn’t what He Tian wanted…

He turned his head to look at Zhengxi, surprised by the seeming calm and indifference of his expression—and how he saw through it now. Xi always looked like he didn’t care, like he wasn’t paying attention. But he saw more than any of them realized. He Tian kissed him fast and hard, finding himself again in that soul rocking contact. And then he pulled back and smiled.

He reached out and snagged Jian Yi’s ankle, dragging him back down the bed.

Jian Yi jolted, still hard and shaking, skin pink and eyes wet with frustration. He Tian dragged him all the way down, until he was between his thighs again. He pulled Jian Yi’s arms from his face, surprised to realize the blond had been biting into his own arm, leaving deep impressions but not yet breaking skin. He Tian shivered, squeezing Jian Yi’s wrists a little. “Don’t do that,” he said, voice deep and the order clear.

Jian Yi whined, arms shaking.

He Tian reached down between them and slid two fingers into the blond. Jian Yi’s jaw dropped and one of his arms reflectively tried to curl in front of his face again—He Tian caught it, shaking his head. “No.” He pushed his arms up over his head, holding them down until they stopped trying to rise, Jian Yi twisting his hands in the sheets. He Tian thrust his fingers inside him, body leaned over Jian Yi’s to watch his face closely, to feel his breath panting out his pink lips. “If you bite anything, you bite me,” he said darkly and shivered at the strangled moan Jian Yi let out, body twitching when he added a third finger.

Xi had slid back to his spot at the head of the bed, half stretched out and leaning against the headboard, watching like this was something that happened all the time.

He Tian kissed Jian Yi, sliding his fingers out of him and drinking in his whimper. He pressed the head of his cock against him and felt the jolt of nerves shoot through Jian Yi, his whole body tensing, arching, squirming in a fit of want and fear. He Tian moved slowly, head lifted just enough to watch Jian Yi’s face the whole time, pushing himself slowly into him.

One arm slid up Jian Yi’s to lock his hand around both wrists, his other hand holding on to one thigh. He pushed all the way in, held still for a long second just to feel him, and then started moving. It was slow at first, testing. Jian Yi tried to hold his breath, tried to swallow his own sounds until he was choking on them. His arms flexed, trying to move to his face again, but He Tian held on to his wrists.

He Tian thrust harder, just a little, solid claps of flesh against flesh, trying to get those sounds out of Jian Yi, driving both of them up the mattress. He growled against Jian Yi’s ear. “I won’t come first, Jian Yi,” he rumbled menacingly. “You think Mo can hold out? Who do you think he usually competes with?” He was still thrusting, a slow but hard rhythm. No rush. Jian Yi’s cock was throbbing between them. “I won’t touch it until you scream…”

Jian Yi jolted, jerking against his grip and whimpering low in his chest. His face was red, breaths held too tight, mind fighting his body.

He Tian pushed him all the way up to the headboard, thrust after thrust.

Jian Yi bit into his bottom lip to keep his mouth from opening, but his hips were rocking into He Tian’s thrusts, fingers curling over the hand that held his overhead.

He Tian kissed him, opening his mouth with his own, trying to suck those captive sounds right out of him.

Finally, he broke, gasping for air and letting out a tangle of moans and sobs. “Please, please, please…” he trailed, body arching and twisting.

He Tian moaned darkly, reaching between them to squeeze Jian Yi’s erection. He wanted to thrust harder and faster but he didn’t, not this time. Jian Yi convulsed under him, crying out as though he was trying not to enjoy himself, not to reach his climax. His head lifted and he pressed his face against He Tian’s shoulder, biting down when he couldn’t fight it anymore, moaning right into his skin when he came.

He Tian groaned at the feel of those teeth on his shoulder and lost himself in a few more thrusts. Jian Yi didn’t release his bite until they were both spent, falling back and panting or air. He Tian watched the blush drain from his face and his eyes focus, losing that haze. He shuddered pleasantly, mouth still open as he tried to catch his breath. He Tian let go of his wrists, hand running along the side of his neck to turn his face up to him. “Was it as bad as you thought?” he whispered.

Jian Yi grinned, a lazy satisfied smile and shivered when He Tian moved, pulling out of him. “Worse,” he confessed and then sucked on his bottom lip. “And better.”

Zhengxi shifted to get up and He Tian caught his arm before he could think better of it. This was new. Xi had sat there through all of it. Was he supposed to pretend he wasn’t a part of it now? He Tian leaned over Jian Yi and toward Zhengxi, pulse picking up again. His hand slid off his arm, down until his fingers curled in the waistband of Xi’s pants. What if Xi wanted to leave? What if he wasn’t interested?

The distance between them closed, Xi stealing a kiss and shoving his tongue into He Tian’s mouth.

Zhengxi’s phone rang, more of a low chime than a real ringing. He smiled against He Tian’s mouth and broke the kiss, sliding off the bed and picking up his phone.

 

* * *

 

Zhengxi rolled his shoulders, trying to shake off the weight of lust after watching that show. He picked up his phone and narrowed his eyes at the caller’s name—Mo Guan Shan.

Mo never called him.

Xi stepped out of the room and answered, holding the phone to his ear.

He heard rain and cars and then finally Mo sighed. “Hey. Sorry, it’s late… Is He Tian around?” Mo spoke quietly, discomfort clear in his voice.

“He’s busy.”

Another pause. Another stream of rain and traffic. “Okay. Thanks.”

“Wait,” Xi said quickly, before the redhead could hang up. “Where are you?” He glanced at the clock. It was only 03.34. He shouldn’t be off work yet.

“Everything’s fine,” Mo started and Xi’s stomach dropped because that’s not something people say when everything really is fine. “I’m at the police station and it’s just raining a shit ton and the train station—”

“Yeah,” Xi understood, it was far from there and not great. “Stay there. I’ll come get you.”

“No. It’s fine. Just tell He Tian—”

“Shut up, I’ll be there in like ten minutes. Will you be okay?”

“Of course. I’m literally on the front steps of a fucking police station. What’s going to happen to me here?”

Zhengxi frowned at that, wanting to ask why he was there in the first place but too much conversation might push Mo into walking home in the rain. “Don’t move.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update got long! Hoping to get another one up before I go on vacation the week after next. <3  
> Thanks for reading so far!!


	10. Glue

Zhengxi slipped back into his bedroom to grab a hoodie, not bothering to switch out of his sweatpants or grab a t-shirt.

Jian Yi was already in the bathroom and He Tian was getting up to join him, stopping when he noticed what Xi was doing. “You’re leaving?” He tried to hide a flicker of uncertainty or worry, but Xi thought he heard it. It looked like Zhengxi was taking off after seeing Jian Yi and He Tian together—and at 3 in the morning.

“Going to pick up Mo. I’ll be right back,” Zhengxi assured, zipping up his hoodie and stuffing his wallet in his pocket.

Zhengxi noticed Jian Yi’s phone sticking out of the pocket of his sweatpants on the floor. He picked it up, looking at the screen before setting it on the dresser. Jian Yi had his phone on silent. He’d had one missed call and five text messages from Mo.

He Tian’s thin smile vanished. He would know it was early and that Zhengxi wasn’t the person Mo called to get picked up. “I’ll get him. Did something happen?” he was already starting for the hallway.

Zhengxi caught his wrist. “He says he’s fine. I can get him. Stay with Jian Yi.”

He Tian stared at him hard, harder than he had looked at him since they’d started this fourway thing. It was scathing, trying to decide if he was really going to trust Xi to handle this.

“If there’s something wrong, I’ll call you,” Zhengxi added, giving He Tian’s wrist a squeeze, a part of him expecting He Tian to pull it back.

But instead of shaking him off and refusing, He Tian’s shoulders relaxed slowly and he nodded a little. “Yeah. Okay.”

Zhengxi was honestly surprised he’d conceded.

“Take my car. The keys are on the counter,” He Tian added, going toward the bathroom and the sound of Jian Yi’s shower-singing rather than his own room. He paused in the doorway and Zhengxi could see how unnatural it was for him to not go after Mo—to leave it to someone else. But this was how this needed to work, wasn’t it? They could all look out for each other. They could all be trusted.

 “I’ve got it,” Zhengxi promised, wondering why he wanted this kind of trust—why he wanted to be the one to go get Mo in the middle of the night. It was a nuisance, wasn’t it? It was He Tian’s nuisance. They could have done this fourway casually—could have kept to their own couples unless they were screwing around—but that wasn’t how this had happened, that wasn’t how any of them had approached it. Zhengxi found that he craved He Tian’s trust just as much as he did Mo’s—the way he had Jian Yi’s.

He Tian gave another tight nod. “Okay. But call me if it’s bad or if you’re not sure…”

“I promise,” he said and left, grabbing the keys off the counter and stepping into his sneakers at the door. It was raining outside, but He Tian parked in the underground garage.

Zhengxi sped to the police station, mindful enough to bring his speed down when he got close. He pulled up right in front of the station and saw the blurry shape of Mo through the water streaming over the windows. Orange jacket and red hair. He watched it come closer and reached across to pop the door open. Mo slid into the passenger seat, hair already soaked just from that short walk down the steps to the sidewalk. He slammed the door and sighed. “You didn’t have to come,” he sulked.

Zhengxi noticed the other man’s busted lip, bruised cheek, and sloppily taped gash on his temple. “What happened?”

“Drive,” Mo sulked.

Zhengxi curled his lip at the ingrate and leaned over him. Mo tensed, either surprised by the nearness or startled by it. Zhengxi grabbed his seatbelt and buckled him in before sitting back and pulling away from the sidewalk. They were on the road again and this time Zhengxi wasn’t speeding. “Do you need to go to a hospital?”

Mo laughed then, short and sweet. “No.”

“What happened?” Zhengxi repeated, trying to make it sound more casual and less worried.

Mo shrugged. “A fight broke out at the club. People always get difficult near closing.”

“I thought you were a bartender not a bouncer…” Zhengxi was suddenly unsure if he’d gotten it wrong. Mo had always been scrappy, menacing even, but he attracted a fight too. Big guys liked to think they could put him down or maybe just the look of him insighted something—excited and angered—the way it did with She Li. Zhengxi had noticed it since that night at the house party when he pulled She Li off of him. Thinking back, Mo had gotten into a lot of fights over the year. They were rarely his fault, but Xi would have to be blind not to see how violent people were drawn to Mo. And Mo made no effort to cater to, or bow down to, those people.

“I am. But it got out of hand.” He shrugged once, like that was explanation enough. A fight had gotten out of hand so Mo had jumped the bar and weighed into it. From the corner of Zhnegxi’s eye, he caught a small smirk pulling at the unbloodied corner of Mo’s mouth. “I won,” he said, smug but tired.

“And you were at the police station because...?”

“They brought a bunch of people in. The boss at the club sent me along to make a statement.”

Zhengxi drove and they fell into silence for a few minutes.

Mo closed his eyes, arms still crossed. His bottom lip was swollen and purple around a cut that had stopped bleeding.

“So,” Zhengxi said, interrupted the quiet. “Was I your third call?”

Mo’s eyes opened, wide before he could school his features. “What?”

Zhengxi smiled to himself. He would have called He Tian first, maybe even more than once. He was more than curious to know what those text messages would say. Mo was different with He Tian—different with each of them. And he had tried Jian Yi when He Tian hadn’t answered. And then he had called Zhengxi. Third wasn’t bad. He was surprised that Mo had called him at all rather than just walking home in the rain. He wouldn’t have before.

“I didn’t mean for you to come get me. I was just trying to get ahold of He Tian…” he defended, sounding edgy.

“I don’t mind coming to get you,” Zhengxi said, pulling into the parking garage under their building. “And I don’t mind being third on your list.”

Mo huffed a laugh, but Zhengxi could tell he was uncomfortable. “It’s a short list,” he promised, voice barely above a whisper.

Zhengxi parked.

Mo unbuckled himself with his left hand—and awkward but quick move—and hopped out of the car. Zhengxi stayed a couple steps back on the way through the parking garage to the elevator. Mo jabbed the button with the fingers of his left hand, his right arm hanging at his side—his lean chest hidden under that puffy orange jacket.

“You sure you don’t need to go to a hospital?” Zhengxi asked again, trying to make it sound as casual as possible and succeeding. He was good at sounding like he didn’t care—like things didn’t matter even when they did.

Mo snorted but didn’t look at him, standing on the elevator and glaring at the closed doors. “I’m breathing and I’m standing. What the fuck would I go to a hospital for?”

“Hn.” Zhengxi studied him, easier since Mo was set against looking back at him.

As soon as the doors opened the redhead was marching down the hall to their apartment. He dug into his pocket with his left hand for his keys and Zhengxi stepped up ahead of him to unlock the door himself—not wanting to watch him fumble with the lock just because he wouldn’t admit he’d messed up his right hand.

When they walked into the quiet apartment, Mo kicked off his sneakers and sulked into the dark, not bothering with the lights. He mumbled a, “Thanks,” before vanishing down the hallway.

Zhengxi stopped in the kitchen to grab a couple icepacks and then in the hallway for the first-aid kit they kept. They all had a good habit of getting fucked up and it had proved smart to keep a first-aid kit.

He paused to look in on his own bedroom and found He Tian and Jian Yi asleep. He Tian was on his back and Jian Yi was half flung across him, sprawled out in all directions.

He closed the door softly and walked into Mo and He Tian’s room at the end of the hall. Mo had unzipped his jacket and just dropped it to the floor.

His t-shirt was ripped and splattered in blood stains that couldn’t possibly be all his own. He froze when the door opened, looking at Zhengxi with a flicker of surprise and confusion before he took note of the first-aid kit. He blushed and looked away. “Thanks. You can just leave it wherever.”

Zhengxi walked into the room, setting the kit down on the bed and dropping the icepacks on the floor.

Mo’s right hand was swollen, knuckles bruised purple and blue with shallow bloody gashes. His left wasn’t as bad. He stood there, waiting for Zhengxi to leave and not looking at him. He was a storm of emotions, still high from the fight and uncomfortable being seen after. Zhengxi wondered how long Mo would stay standing like that, despite being so tired and sore, just because he couldn’t let himself be weak in front of him? It was thrilling to imagine a day when Mo wouldn’t hesitate to be at his worst in front of him, or to ask him for help, or to call him.

He walked over to the redhead, slow because he saw the way he jumped at the motion—adrenaline still high. Zhengxi took his ruined shirt by the hem and lifted it slowly, watching Mo shudder despite all his efforts before lifting his arms over his head and letting Zhengxi peel it off.

“Where’s He Tian?” Mo asked, voice carefully empty.

He wasn’t as good at pretending he wasn’t affected by people as Zhengxi was. “He’s asleep in my room, with Jian Yi.” He tossed the shirt into the hamper and studied Mo’s torso. Bruises were blooming, underlined in red marks that would fade faster—a product of pale skin. Mo’s muscles jumped under his skin when Zhengxi was behind him, out of sight. “I’m not going to hurt you,” Zhengxi said. He’d say it every day if he had to, until Mo actually trusted him. “But if you yelled, he’d hear you,” he offered, in case it would comfort Mo. Maybe he should have just let He Tian take care of him. Maybe he shouldn’t push their relationship.

Mo let out a huff and a laugh, head turning to the side. He raised his eyebrow and it popped the sloppy tape job holding his split brow together—he didn’t seem to notice. “I’m not afraid of you. I could kick your ass even after the night I’ve had.”

Zhengxi smiled and nodded once. “Sure.”

Mo turned to face him, squaring off like they were going to have a friendly fight. “I won that last time.”

Zhengxi laughed before he could stop himself. “We were kids and you cheated.”

“There’s no cheating in a fight.”

“You hit me in the head with a rock. I still have a scar.”

“Psh,” Mo blew out the sound, unimpressed with the idea of a little scar. His body was covered in scars. “It was a small rock.”

“I was unconscious for eighteen hours…”

“That’s just because you’re a wuss.” Mo smiled.

Zhengxi bit back his own grin. “Sit on the bed, asshole. I’m going to grab a towel to clean up your damned face…” He was heading out of the room before he finished saying it.

“I don’t need help. I’m fine,” Mo said but when Zhengxi came back with the wet cloth, he was sitting on the edge of the bed.

Zhengxi closed the door and picked up one of the icepacks. “Can you move your fingers?”

“They’re not broken,” Mo said rather than answering. When Zhengxi stood there, waiting, he groaned and held up his right hand, painstakingly closing and opening his right hand with a hiss.

Zhengxi nodded and then put Mo’s hand down on the bed beside him and the icepack over it. Before Mo could start bitching about that, he grabbed his chin and tipped his face up to him, standing right between Mo’s thighs. His chin was almost against Zhengxi’s stomach, hand holding his face up while the other gently cleaned the blood from his skin. He enjoyed the feel of those red eyes staring up at him, free to feel like he didn’t notice because he kept his own gaze on Mo’s skin—studying bruises and the split on the side of his lower lip and the gash in his eyebrow.

“You keep doing this…” Mo said quietly, serious now.

“Doing what?”

“Cleaning me up.”

“Hn.”

“Are you going to fuck me?”

Zhengxi frozen, his cock throbbing once, and he was suddenly worried that in their nearness, Mo would feel it against his collar. “Not yet.”

Mo forced a laugh to cover a glimmer of hurt and disappointment. “If you’re waiting for me to be pretty, you better just put a bag on my head and get on with it. There’s always a bruise or a scab or—”

“If you want me to sleep with you, why not just say it?” Zhengxi put the washcloth down and fished the tape from the kit, resealing the little gash on his eyebrow.

Mo stared, face blushing and pulsing heat. “You’re the one with the hard on,” he countered, voice harsh, still looking for a fight. Was it the adrenaline? The vulnerability of being cared for? Or was this just how Mo flirted?

Zhengxi painted Mo’s bottom lip in antiseptic glue, the redhead’s face wincing when he finally jerked his chin free of Zhengxi’s hold. “Fuck…”

Zhengxi grabbed his hand while he was still distracted by the sting on his lip, pulled the icepack off and then started painting the shallow cuts in the same antiseptic glue.

“Ah! Fuck! Fuck! Let go!” Mo snapped, trying to jerk his hand away, but Zhengxi had a death grip on his arm and turned so that his back was to Mo, holding his arm in front of himself so that he couldn’t interfere. Mo’s other hand drummed against his back, fisting in his shirt. “Let go!” he gasped.

“Don’t be a baby about it.”

The door flung open and they both froze, surprised.

He Tian stood in the doorway, one fist curled and only recently opened eyes narrowed. His sweatpants hung low on his lips. His gaze swept over the two of them, obviously woken by Mo’s pleas. His fist uncurled when he found no danger to Mo here but he took a step in, eyes widening when he tried to take in all of Mo at once. “What the fuck…”

“Barfight,” Zhengxi explained.

“I won,” Mo added.

He Tian seemed to be considering them again, deciding something before huffing once and slinking back out of the room, closing the door behind himself and presumably going back to bed.

Mo gaped. “I can’t believe that fucker just left me here to be bullied by you.”

Zhengxi dropped the glue turned to face Mo, still holding his hand. “What are you talking about? I’m literally patching you up.”

Mo opened his mouth to argue and Zhengxi lifted his arm, blowing on his knuckles. He held the redhead’s gaze over them, watching those eyes go wide and a new blush spread over his face. He forgot whatever he was going to say and Zhengxi smiled.

Mo tried to pull his hand back but Zhengxi kept it, blowing another stream of air across the flexible medical glue. It was probably already done drying, but he wanted to see Mo shiver again.

 

* * *

 

Mo stared at those lips, blowing air across his scraped and bruised knuckles, and for long seconds he couldn’t think clearly at all.

Suddenly he realized Xi had asked him something. The bastard was raising an eyebrow, waiting.

“What?” Mo croaked.

Zhengxi smiled a little, smug. “I asked if you want some painkillers.”

“No. I don’t take that stuff.”

Zhengxi looked surprised. “Not even the light stuff?”

Mo shook his head once. “Nah. I don’t like the feel. I’ll be fine. Thanks for…” he gestured vaguely to his face, waving his right hand around. “I’m just going to sleep it off.”

“You’ll just feel worse in the morning,” Zhengxi said, voice always so damned even. He moved the first-aid kit off the bed though and Mo thought he’d leave. He flicked the overhead light off, only the lamp beside the bed still keeping the room from complete darkness. “Lay face down.”

Mo stared, heart drumming in his head. “What?”

Zhengxi unzipped his hoodie, no shirt underneath, and dropped it on the floor. Somehow his expression was still so calm—so uninterested. Like anything about this was normal. Zhengxi picked up a bottle of body oil from the kit on the floor and waved it once, as if bored. “Face down, Red,” he said again.

Mo shivered despite all his efforts, shaking his head once. “You don’t have to do that. I’m fine.”

Xi was moving closer now. “You say that a lot for a guy covered in bruises…”

Mo crawled backwards to the middle of the bed, trying to get a little more space between them—trying to think clearly.

“I could flip you and pin you if you want…” Zhengxi seemed to be tasting the idea as he said it. “Is that a kink of yours?”

Mo blushed hard. “No!”

Zhengxi was on his knees on the bed now, raising an eyebrow and waiting for Mo to either lay on his stomach and admit he liked being manhandled. Blushing still, Mo swore and rolled over onto his chest, mindful of his hurt hand. He held his breath when Xi crawled up the bed, straddling his waist. He closed his eyes when he heard the bottle open and that oil squirt out, mind instantly thinking of lube. Suddenly he was grateful he was face down, because his erection was pressed into the bed—well and truly hidden.

His eyes opened when Zhengxi’s hands slid over his back, careful of bruises and gently working the knots out of sore muscles. He bit his bottom lip to keep from moaning.

“So,” Xi said, voice deep. Was it husky? Was he still turned on? “What are your kinks, Red?” The nickname again.

Mo was grateful that at least in this position, Xi couldn’t see his face, one cheek to the mattress and shadows folding all around them. “Fuck you, man,” he laughed a little, nervous.

Zhengxi continued to massage his back. He shifted on top of him, sitting on the back of his thighs and oh-so casually pressing his erection against Mo’s ass. He sucked in a breath and felt his own cock throb against the bed. _Fuck._

“I’m being serious,” Xi said, hands still moving over his back. “If we ever have sex, I wouldn’t want to disappoint you…”

Mo huffed a laugh, body riled up and relaxed at the same time. “I don’t think that’s possible,” he said before he could catch himself, wincing in embarrassment and again happy to be facing away from him. _Fuck. Get a hold of yourself_ , he thought.

His hands moved up his spine, massaging the back of Mo’s neck. He moaned despite himself, good hand twitching against the covers.

Zhengxi’s hand stilled against his neck for a second and then circled his thumb in against his muscles again, dragging that sound out of him. Mo’s hand tightened in the covers, trying to control himself. He wasn’t sure if his neck had always been a hot spot for him, or if he had just intrinsically connected it to sex after all the years of He Tian grabbing and kissing and biting at it.

“Safe word?” Xi asked, back to massaging, hands working over his shoulders now, like he hadn’t just discovered Mo’s reaction to his neck being grabbed and pressed.

Mo shuddered. “Wh-Why?” he bit out and hated himself for always being so difficult. They were in a fucking relationship. He’d blown this guy! But he pretended they weren’t running toward fucking—pretended he didn’t feel Xi’s erection pressed into his ass or his own aching against the mattress.

Zhengxi leaned forward, his hair brushing against Mo’s temple and his mouth near his ear. “Because, someday you’re going to ask me to fuck you and I’m going to do it…”

Mo bit back a moan unsuccessfully.

“And the first time, won’t be the last time, and I’m not going to screw this up… So, you should tell me your word now, right?” he whispered, warm breath against Mo’s ear.

He shivered, shocking himself when he squirmed only to rub his ass back against Zhengxi’s erection. He swallowed hard when he heard the other man moan, fingers twitching against his back.

“Pineapple,” Mo admitted in a small voice. He hated pineapple.

Xi smiled against Mo’s cheek. “Have you ever used it?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He sat up suddenly and Mo was left catching his breath. Zhengxi lifted himself up onto his knees again, weight no longer on Mo and the redheaded hated how much he missed the feel of that hard dick pressed to his ass through the thin layers of their sweats. “Roll over.”

Mo’s eyes opened and he looked back over his shoulder at Xi. He was waiting, head cocked to the side and the glint in his eyes daring Mo to do it. Mo shivered. He couldn’t. He was so hard, there was no hiding it. Zhengxi stared at him, waiting, unrelenting.

Mo bit his bottom lip. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

Mo almost said again that he couldn’t, but what was the point? Hoping to shock Zhengxi, he flipped over onto his back, muscles less sore than they had been before the massage—not that he’d be thanking him. He stretched out on his back under Xi, looking up at him, hoping the erection tenting his sweats would finally snap Xi’s controlled exterior. It didn’t. He settled back down and they both breathed heavily, hard-ons pressed together.

Xi glided his hands over Mo’s chest, up to his shoulders, rubbing his arms now—like they weren’t both rock hard.

Mo bit at his lip to keep from whining, hips rolling to rub them together and spasming at the sensation.

Zhengxi moaned freely, blue eyes glazed, but still he wouldn’t make the move.

Finally, Mo realized this asshole wasn’t going to make the move. He wasn’t going to just strip him down and fuck him without a word. He wanted the hear the words. He’d said it hadn’t he? That Mo would ask him someday and he would do it.

“No, way,” Mo panted.

Xi smiled a little, in the corner of his mouth—cocky as all hell.

Mo shivered and rolled his hips again, intentionally rubbing them together and hating the way Xi’s moan reverberated through his own body. Fuck! He reached up with his good hand, pressing his palm to Xi’s chest but not pushing him away, fingers flexing against his skin. “J-Just… Just do what you want.”

Xi’s smile faded and those hazy blue eyes finally moved over his face, for a moment holding his gaze. Mo was shocked how much better he understood those eyes now than he had just days ago. Zhengxi didn’t get off on the idea of taking what wasn’t given. It wasn’t his kink. And Mo was inadvertently pushing him into it.

Mo stilled. He’d spent a lot of his life fending off assholes that wanted too much from him, and hating himself for when he did want—because he never felt like he deserved He Tian or Jian Yi or now Zhengxi. It was too much. Mo had deserved sadistic assholes like She Li. But he’d lucked out. He’d slipped his own fate. And even now, years into a good relationship with He Tian, he struggled to admit he deserved anything.

But that wasn’t fair to Xi. Xi wasn’t taking. This wasn’t one-sided.

He slid his hand farther up Xi’s chest, until he curled his fingers around the back of his neck and dragged him down closer, until he was curled over Mo and staring straight at him. His whole body shuddered then, having that much attention on himself, and saying what he was going to say. “I want you,” he breathed it out, tears in his eyes because this felt terrifying and thrilling. “I want you inside me, right now. I want you to fuck me until we both come. I want you.”

Zhengxi’s eyes darkened and Mo felt his cock throb against his own, just before Xi closed the distance between their lips. The kiss was full of want, leaving no room for questions. Mo shuddered out a moan when Xi’s hands slid down his sides, fingers hooking into the tops of his pants. He sat up and broke their kiss, backing down the bed to pull Mo’s pants and underwear off, tossing them onto the floor.

Mo bit into his bottom lip to keep from groaning when Xi stood at the foot of the bed and stripped down. He sat up and kicked his way back until his shoulders hit the headboard, legs spreading in offering though he hated how his thighs shook, hoping Xi didn’t notice. Xi crawled up to him, on his knees between Mo’s legs. He grabbed his thighs and lifted the redhead, pulling him down the headboard until his body was curled. Mo shivered, skin hot. He lifted the feel of being confined, of being pressed and bent.

“Lube?” Xi moaned against his mouth, squeezing Mo’s thighs and rubbing against him.

Mo hissed. “Forget it. Just do it,” he urged.

Xi practically growled. “Lube,” he said again, less of a question this time.

Mo groaned but stretched his good arm out, digging around the mattress, where it was wedged to the headboard until he found a little bottle. They ended up stashed just about everywhere in He Tian and Mo’s room. He would have thrown it at Xi in a frustrated fit if he weren’t too close—impossibly, agonizingly close and yet still not close enough. Instead he shoved it into his hand.

He gasped, thunking his head back against the headboard when Xi slid a finger and then two into him, expertly testing and wetting before tossing the bottle away and stroking himself twice. Mo stared. He hadn’t realized he was until his jaw dropped and he watched Xi press his dick against his pucker. “Shit… Oh shit…” Mo panted, a part of his brain telling him to stop staring like a freak but he couldn’t. He let out a low groan when his body took him in, Xi’s hips pushing slowly forward and Mo finally had to push his head back again to gasp, body straining in that tight space between Xi and the headboard.

Xi moved, in and out, in lazy savoring thrusts. It wasn’t the rush job, Mo had imagined and he thought he was going to lose his mind, already painfully turned on. He gnashed his teeth to keep from begging, barely able to think of anything more clearly than the solid strokes of the cock moving inside him.

Mo cried out in alarm when Xi moved them, one hand still holding tight o Mo’s thigh to keep him with him, dragging him back from the headboard. Before he could complain, Xi’s other hand wrapped around the back of Mo’s neck, squeezing and lifting him, dragging another moan from his chest. Soon they were both sitting, Mo in Xi’s lap, both thrusting and arching. Xi kept his hold on the back of Mo’s neck, holding him up and holding pressure, making Mo jerk his hips a little faster—a little greedier.

When he was moving on his own, in Xi’s lap, Xi let go of his thigh and wrapped his hand against Mo’s aching sex, stroking him in time with their colliding bodies.

“Fuck! Fuck!” Mo gasped, biting at his lip again to try to quiet himself. He was on the edge and just barely holding on, refusing to go first. He chanced a look at Zhengxi’s face, expecting to find his eyes closed or unfocused and his mouth open to pant, some expression of abandon that would probably only make it even harder for Mo to hold on. What he found was a thousand times worse. Xi was looking at him—watching him with those dark blue eyes full of shit he didn’t say. Full of thoughts and feelings like secrets that weren’t really secrets at all. Xi was watching him. Xi was fucking him. Xi was with him. Mo choked back a cry of pleasure, hand reaching down to try to stop Zhengxi’s hand on his cock. It was too late. He came, body spasming and chest heaving for air, body tightening around Zhengxi inside him.

Mo held his breath for a long second, shuddering. Xi was still moving inside him, but slowly, as if to keep him riding his own pleasure rather than interrupt it. Mo swallowed hard, vision focusing again on the little smirk in the corner of Xi’s mouth. His eyes were dilated, his cheeks flushed, and his mouth open just a little to moan. He’d liked watching Mo go first. “Asshole…” Mo muttered and then pushed his weight forward, shoving Zhengxi on his back before he knew what was happening.

Mo almost pressed his busted hand against Xi’s chest for balance but the blond caught his arm, stopping it before it could but keeping the redhead up. His other hand stroked up Mo’s thigh to his hip, those blue eyes still watching him, as if recording everything. Mo swallowed a moan and started moving, bouncing up and down on Xi’s cock. This time he didn’t look away from his face, studying Xi’s every moan and gasp—the way his breath picked up the closer he got, the way his fingers twitched against his hip and his eyes lost focus just before he came. His shoulders and skull pressed back against the bed, resisting the urge to shove his hips up—so Mo pressed himself down, burying him as deep as he would go when he lost himself.

They stayed like that for long seconds, before Mo shakily slid off of him. He laughed at himself, one hand busted, the other covered in his own cum.

Xi was still sprawled out, breath slowly evening out as he reveled in the aftermath. Mo kicked his thigh and then rolled off the bed, getting on his feet without the use of either hand. He opened the door with his elbow and went straight for the bathroom.

After he cleaned up, he stood in the bathroom for another minute just looking at himself in the mirror. His face was a fucking mess, still swollen and red and bruised. Whatever worries he’d had about not being pretty enough for Xi had proven ungrounded if he’d slept with him when he looked like this…

Knuckles rolled against the door and Mo reached out, opening it. It was never locked and his brow was already raised because he’d sucked every dick in this house so he couldn’t imagine why any of them would knock. He Tian grinned at him, leaning against the frame. “Having a fun night, Little Mo? First a bar brawl and now Xixi…”

Mo blushed. “You and Jian Yi…?” he asked.

He Tian nodded. “Yeah.” He gestured to Mo’s bruised right hand. “Is that okay?”

Mo nodded.

He Tian came closer, hand coming up to gently grab Mo’s jaw and turn his face up to his, those dark eyes boring into him—looking for his soul in his eyes and sending chills down Mo’s spine. “You and Xixi…” he said softly, voice low, like this was just between them. “It was good?”

Mo smiled slowly, realizing that that was what had He Tian waiting up—to make sure it went well, to make sure Mo was okay. “I’m not a fuckin’ virgin, asshole,” he snapped, but he loved it. He Tian didn’t let go of his jaw, eyes ruthlessly sharp. “Yes, it was good,” Mo answered and then blushed and added, “It was great.”

He Tian grinned wickedly, pulling Mo up onto his toes and ducking his head to kiss him like he was looking for the taste of Xi on his lips. “Great, huh?”

“Yeah. You should try getting fucked by him,” Mo pressed before shoving him back with a laugh. “I’m tired. I’m going to sleep.”

 

* * *

 

 

He Tian stepped out of his way and watched the very naked redhead leave the bathroom. He waited, leaning against the counter. Less than a minute later, Zhengxi walked in, surprised to find the other man there.

For a minute they just stood there. “Are we okay?” Xi finally asked.

He Tian looked forward to a future where he wouldn’t have to ask him things like that—where they would always know when they were okay, where they were always okay at home in these situations. He’d done nothing wrong—but Xi couldn’t know for sure if He Tian would feel jealous or angry, none of them could really know until they crossed the line.

“We’re perfect,” He Tian said, and meant it. Everything had worked. Everyone was happy. They didn’t need to worry about if they would work or if they were compatible or if they’d be jealous. “Thanks for patching him up,” he said and pushed off the counter, wedging past Zhengxi in the doorway.

Xi stopped him with a hand to his chest, leaning closer to his side, mouth hovering over He Tian’s shoulder like he might kiss it, but didn’t. He Tian bit the inside of his lip to keep from smiling, feeling the rush of that nearness set his pulse off. “Are you sleeping in your bed or mine?”

He Tian did smile then. It would have sounded like an offer if each of those beds didn’t already have someone sleeping in them. He almost asked Zhengxi if he had a preference, if he wanted one bed or the other, but changed his mind. The question seemed dangerous and a little ugly after he just slept with Mo. He would choose Jian Yi, of course, but it seemed wrong to fuck the other and then move back to their own beds.

He Tian shrugged instead, getting an idea. “Mine, I guess.”

Xi nodded once and let his hand drop from He Tian’s chest. He went into the bathroom and closed the door and He Tian slipped back into Jian Yi and Zhengxi’s room. He scooped the pale blond up in a cocoon of blankets. Jian Yi squirmed sleepily, face pinching. “The fuck…” he mumbled.

He Tian shushed him and carried him into his room. Mo was still awake, but only barely. He was under the covers, in the middle of the bed. He raised a taped eyebrow at He Tian’s bundle.

“Our bed is bigger,” He Tian explained, gently dumping Jian Yi into the bed beside Mo and climbing in behind him, pushing Jian Yi into the middle until the blond was snuggling up against Mo.

The redhead closed his eyes. “Whatever,” he said, pretending like he didn’t care but He Tian saw the way the corner of his mouth tugged against a smile.

A few minutes later, He Tian heard Zhengxi leave the bathroom—heard him go into his room and waited in the pause of his surprise when he found his bed empty, not just of Jian Yi but of the covers. And then the bedroom door opened tentatively and Xi looked in, unreadable for a second before a tired smile ghosted across his features.

“Get in. I’m turning out the lights and we’re not getting up until noon,” He Tian said, waiting until Xi was on the other side of the bed and climbing in behind Mo, to flick off the lights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bam! I did not leave for vacation on the cliffhanger of the last update! And this was a long one! Okay, I'm going to be away for a bit but I do have more plans. SO MANY PLANS for these guys. Things are going to get dramatic and messed up and angsty but still super sweet, so no worries. Thank you so much to everyone reading and a super big thank you for all the comments! They are so inspiring and so wonderful. Thank you all and have a wonderful summer!!! <3


	11. Cabin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated any of my fics in a while! I had a long vacation followed by a loss in the family. So, now I'm away from home to be with family. Thank you all for your patience with my fics! I have plans for all of them to continue, it's just an issue of time right now. Your comments have meant so much to me and given me so much confidence with my writing. You're amazing! Thank you for reading!

Mo practically pushed Jian Yi out the window, heard the leaves crunching under his bare feet and a swear on his lips. He paused at the frame, voices shouting in the cabin—howling for bloodshed. He looked back once, red eyes hitting the darkness of He Tian’s. He had his back to the door, holding it shut while someone beat at the other side, calling for a hatchet—threatening to let loose gunfire.

“Go,” He Tian snapped for the second time.

Mo clicked his teeth angrily, wanting to argue, to fight, to stay. “Don’t you fuckin’ die without me,” he bit out before jumping out the window, shoes in hand and no shirt on. He almost landed on Jian Yi, the light-haired man looking wild-eyed around the shadows of the forest.

Mo grabbed his arm and pulled, dragging him into the woods. Jian Yi started to resist once they were in the darkness of the trees, the glow of the cabin far away. Finally, he jerked to a stop. “W-We can’t leave them!”

Mo rounded on him, pulse racing, but managed not to throw a punch. He would have, before they started sleeping together. Instead he hissed through his teeth and pulled his sneakers on. “They aren’t going to kill him. They want something,” the redhead whisper-yelled. “So keep your fucking voice down before—”

“How do you know what they want?” Jian Yi snapped.

Mo closed the space between them, grabbing the front of his shirt. “They were calling for He Tian. So either they’re looking to ransom him or it’s a vendetta. Either way, it’s family business and they won’t kill him any time soon.” He hated saying it, hated being out here rather than in there. He preferred to take beatings over running. He could do that. He could take it. But this. This was making him feel sick.

Jian Yi struggled, tears gathering in his angry eyes. “And what about Xi?” he yelled.

Mo growled and shoved him back until he was up against a tree, one hand clamping over Jian Yi’s mouth. “They’ll keep him alive. They’ll use him to keep He Tian playing nice… He’s not exactly known to be reasonable otherwise,” he whispered. “You and I have to get down this damned mountain and get help before they move someplace else.” He took a deep breath, face close to Jian Yi’s to see him in the dark. He waited those few seconds, feeling his breathing and finally a tight nod of agreement.

He let him go just in time to hear a gunshot back at the cabin that made both of them jump, jerking away from the sound while spinning toward it, staring wide-eyed through the night with their hearts in their throats.

 

-1 day earlier-

 

Jian Yi kicked the back of Mo’s seat. “How much farther?” he whined.

Xixi smirked beside him in the backseat but didn’t look up from his book.

Mo swore and twisted around in the front seat, obviously not wearing a seat belt. “How the fuck would I know? Do I look like I’m driving?” the redhead snapped off, reaching out to push his palm against Jian Yi’s forehead.

Jian Yi whined louder, smacking his hand away. “We’ve been in the car forever!”

Mo groaned and turned forward again, slumping back down into his seat.

“We’re almost there,” He Tian said serenely, driving the SUV up the mountainside roads cut between forests of crisp falling leaves.

Mo folded his arms and pretended to be annoyed. “Why are you even bitching? You’ve been asleep since we left the city!”

Jian Yi pouted extra into the rearview mirror for him.

Mo rolled his eyes and looked away, hoping the blond wouldn’t catch the betraying pull at his lips.

He did though. Jian Yi leaned forward, resting his forehead against the back of Mo’s seat and then quietly reaching around the side, hand sliding between the seat and the door to tug at the soft cotton of Mo’s hoodie. He kept tugging until Mo finally slid his hand into Jian Yi’s, not saying anything. Jian Yi smiled to himself.

The trip had been He Tian’s idea. Or maybe it had been Jian Yi’s? He had been a pusher for it but He Tian had made it happen and then decided to be sneaky about the details. They were going on vacation—a getaway someplace. That someplace turned out to be up a mountain at a cabin. Jian Yi had momentary nightmarish worries that it’d be spider-infested and cold and outdoorsy as fuck but as soon as they pulled up in front of it, he knew he’d been wrong.

The woods had been cleared enough for the two story house with two large chimneys and a wraparound deck. He Tian parked in front of the house and Jian Yi gave Mo’s hand a squeeze before letting go and groaning loudly, throwing open his door with a loud, “At last!”

 

* * *

 

He Tian smiled, getting out of the car and fishing the house keys out of his pocket.

“This dump better have food!” Jian Yi shouted.

Zhengxi laughed under his breath at his boyfriend calling the big cabin a dump. He got out and stretched, He Tian on the same side of the car as him. He didn’t mean to stare, but ran his eyes over Zhengxi freely. When he lifted his arms and stretched, his hoodie and shirt lifted enough to glimpse a sliver of skin along his abdomen. His arms came down and He Tian grinned wolfishly, realizing he’d been caught even before he lifted his gaze to stare back at those dark blues. Zhengxi quirked an eyebrow.

He Tian shrugged once, unapologetic.

“Nothing you haven’t seen,” Zhengxi remarked, pulling his bag and Jian Yi’s from the car and closing the door. He said it dismissively, like maybe he expected He Tian to lose interest.

He Tian grinned wider, walking around the blond and running his hand across his back. “Doesn’t matter how many times I see you. I’m not going to stop looking,” he whispered before walking away and toward the house. But he didn’t miss the snort of disbelief from Zhengxi—like He Tian was just joking or overly flirty. He Tian was flirty, but he wasn’t joking. Eventually he’d get Zhengxi to believe it.

Jian Yi was already at the front door, pulling at the locked knob and whining impatiently.

“Do you have to pee or something?” He Tian called.

Mo pulled his hood up over his short red hair, stuffing his arms into the front pocket of his sweater—breath forming wisps in the cold air. He Tian slung an arm over his boyfriend’s shoulders, leading him toward the front steps.

“You couldn’t have picked someplace more…indoors?” Mo complained. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the outdoors, he just didn’t like being cold and it wasn’t exactly summer.

He Tian squeezed him to his side and turned his head, breathing him in before whispering, “There’s a hot tub on the back deck.”

The sun was setting, sapping all the light from the woods and stretching the shadows into each other. He Tian tossed Jian Yi the keys, steering Mo toward the door.

The blond was first inside, unlocking and throwing the door open before flicking on the lights. He went straight for the kitchen and when he found it fully stocked, he forgot all previous complaints and pretended this trip had been his own doing entirely—singing out the contents of the fridge and freezer.

Mo tried not to laugh—He Tian felt it in his shoulders under his arm. The first floor was one big living room and kitchen, vaulted ceilings and big windows on the back looking out over the deck. Jian Yi practically screamed when he saw the hot tub, flicking on the deck lights and throwing open the sliding door. It was getting dark but the tub glowed when he started playing with the dials.

Stairs ran up one wall, disappearing into the second floor.

“Not bad,” Mo mumbled.

He Tian smiled, pride swelling his chest because that was big time compliment from Mo. “If you like it now, just wait until you see the bedroom.”

The redhead turned his head, looking up at him with one eyebrow cocked under the shadow of his hoodie. “Which room?”

“There’s only one bedroom.”

Mo laughed a little and shook his head. “Really pushing for that foursome…”

He Tian shrugged. “I don’t mind watching. Or just fucking next to each other.” He loved the way pink tinged Mo’s cheeks even when they were alone like this and he said something so lewd and yet so intimate. He was pretty sure it was the intimate part of it that made him blush. Mo didn’t mind getting lewd for the sake of shocking people. In the past couple weeks the four of them had been casually swinging between one another. It worked. It was smooth and familiar even when it was new.

“So, what’s so special about the room?” Mo asked.

Jian Yi had just come inside again, hurrying closer at the words, head swiveling around in search for the room. He climbed the stairs two at a time.

He Tian shrugged, not going to give it away.

Jian Yi was upstairs, swinging the door open. “Is there only one room? Shit, that’s a big bed!” he yelled. “What’s so special about it though? Wait. Is that a fucking mirror on the ceiling? Ew!”

Mo perked up before he could catch himself, a flash of excitement that got quickly tapered into a sharp, wicked, smirk. He looked up at He Tian again. “Really?”

He Tian just smiled. “I do know how much you like a mirror…”

Mo practically purred, grabbing the front of He Tian’s jacket and pulling him forward, leaning up to kiss him hard, parting his mouth to add tongue before shoving him back and bolting up the stairs to see the room for himself.

 

* * *

 

Mo went up the stairs in a flash. The room was big and the bed huge and there, held up by the four posts of the wood frame, was a huge mirror. “Holy shit.”

Jian Yi looked unimpressed. “That’s creepy. How am I supposed to sleep with that?”

Mo pounced, tackling him onto the bed. Jian Yi laughed but struggled for the sake of a battle, heart beating faster when Mo finally pinned him to the mattress under him, arms over his head and face over his. “You’ll sleep just fine because I’ll wear you out,” the redhead promised.

Jian Yi bit his lower lip but resisted the impulse to really try to get away. He squirmed instead, gasping when Mo ground his hips down against his.

Honestly, he was surprised Mo liked the idea of a mirror. He wasn’t exactly vain. In fact, Jian Yi had never known him to spend much time looking at his own reflection and he’d never said anything positive about his own body. “Wh-What is it about the mirror for you?” he managed to ask, groaning at the feel of Mo’s hands pushing his shirt up his torso. Jian Yi lifted his arms and arched off the bed to let him strip the fabric off his skin, shivering when he did because it came so easily. Something about things with Mo had always been easy. It was something about how he acted with Jian Yi, like they were the exact same friends they had always been—like this was the natural progression of that trust and comfort.

Mo smiled, a lazy happy smile, the kind no one ever saw outside of bed. Jian Yi was momentarily overwhelmed, realizing that he was one of only three to ever see it. Mo had always been private, maybe even more so than Xixi. Xixi just didn’t bother to share himself with people he didn’t care about. Mo actually hid himself away, some dark survival skill from a damaged youth. But over the years, it was impossible not to see that he’d do anything for the ones he loved. He gave them everything.

Jian Yi swallowed hard when Mo sat up, straddling him, and started tugging Jian Yi’s jeans open while he himself was still fully clothed, hood of his hoodie still up.

“Just watch… You’re going to love it,” he said, voice husky now.

Jian Yi gasped when Mo pulled his pants down his hips, exposing him. He cast his gaze to the ceiling on reflex, trying to look away, only to see himself. He was mostly naked, pants around his hips and lean body stretched out on the covers with Mo a dark figure straddling him. He shivered, staring at his own flushed face and the heaving of his chest when Mo slid down him, settling between his legs so that he could see even more of himself. His mouth dropped open when Mo wrapped his mouth around his already rising cock, head bobbing.

Jian Yi panted, unable to look away from his own reflection, watching his own reactions in shock as he came apart. His hands twisting in the covers. “M-Mo….” he whispered, gasping.

Mo’s head slid up and down and Jian Yi watched in the reflection as the other man moved hand up the bed, searching for one of his. He hurried to push his long fingers in the path of the other, moaning when their fingers tangled and Mo swallowed around him.

“Shit…” Jian Yi shivered, shaking his head a little and staring at himself, as though to tell himself not to go to fast—not to lose himself. Mo would easily give everything in bed and never ask or take for himself. It had happened more than once that Mo had taken him by storm like this, blown him or jerked him off into a mind blowing orgasm and then left with a smile and taking nothing for himself. Jian Yi wasn’t used to pursuing or taking. With Zhengxi he flirted or whispered or just relied on him knowing his thoughts—and it worked! And with He Tian, he pursued and Jian Yi reacted.

He reached down with his other hand, pushing Mo’s hood off his head and moaning at the sight of that redhead in the mirror, bobbing over his cock. He wasn’t going to let it happen again—let Mo give and not take. But Mo was really, really good at this. Fuck. He arched, vision blurring at the edges when Mo swallowed him, sucking him into the tight squeeze of his throat. “Fuck!” Jian Yi yelled, louder than usual, startling himself.

He panted, trying to collect himself, trying to muster the nerve to stop this, to do something, to be in charge. Damn it. He didn’t have that. He wasn’t that kind of person. Mo squeezed his hand and it reminded of the touch in the car, the squeeze of Mo’s hand over his, that confirmation of affection. Mo loved him, he realized suddenly. It was right there, in that sweet hand hold, squeezing with every bob of his head, like he was seeking even more connection from Jian Yi.

“Xi-Xixi!” Jian Yi shouted when he came, panting hard with his efforts to get the sounds out.

Mo leaned back, popping Jian Yi’s sex out of his mouth and blinking up at him with a raised brow. “Did you just call me Xixi?” There was an edge to his voice, amused but like he wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

The bedroom door opened and Zhengxi stepped in. Mo jerked back, eyes bigger in confusion and Jian Yi realized he was about to back away, off the bed and effectively be cornered—blocked from the door. Did it look like he’d called Xixi for help? The look of worry and confusion on Mo’s face suggested that was exactly what he was trying to figure out.

Xixi on the other hand, quirked a half smile at Jian Yi’s erection before looking worried about Mo’s reaction. Jian Yi sat up and grabbed fistfuls of Mo’s hoodie, pulling him back down on top of him. “Don’t go,” he huffed.

Mo was hopelessly confused, hands to the bed on either side of Jian Yi, like he was afraid to touch him—like he might have crossed a line and not realized it. Those red eyes stared down at him, with a hundred questions and endless care. “Did I do something?”

His level of worry melted Jian Yi’s heart. He pulled at his hoodie again, kissing Mo hard and hooking his legs around his waist to pin him to his body, moaning when he mashed his hardon against the other man. Jian Yi curled a hand in the back of Mo’s short hair, fingers twisting to get a grip and pulling his head to the side. He had never done anything like that before and shuddered with pride at the moan that rolled through Mo on top of him. He could do this. He just needed help…

He kicked off his pants, completely naked now. “Xixi…” he called, keeping his hold on Mo like he might try to escape. “Help me get his clothes off.”

Mo shivered against his chest, eyes glassy. “Wh-What are you doing?” Mo’s voice wobbled with nerves and hopefully excitement when the bed dipped with Zhengxi’s weight behind him. “I thought you liked my blow jobs…”

Jian Yi watched Xixi behind Mo, on his knees on the bed, reaching around him to unzip his hoodie an start peeling it off him. “I love your blow jobs,” Jian Yi promised, hearing the faint note of worry in Mo’s voice. He would have played it all off as a good joke, but he was full of insecurities. “But I’m not going to let you dine and dash today.”

Jian Yi caught Xixi’s grin at his term and maybe his intent. Zhengxi pulled Mo’s shirt off next and Jian Yi pulled at that red hair, uncoiling his legs from around Mo’s waist but not letting him go—like he might try to escape. Zhengxi straddled both of their legs, reaching around Mo’s middle to open his jeans. He dropped kisses along Mo’s naked shoulder, up his neck. “You’re okay?” he asked in a low whisper against Mo’s ear, waiting for his moan and nod before giving his ear a gentle bite and dragging his pants down his legs, finally stripping Mo naked.

 

* * *

 

Zhengxi chewed his lip, stripping Mo naked and then sliding back off the bed, standing beside it and soaking up the sight of the two of them, stark naked and tangled together. Jian Yi was kissing Mo like he needed the air in his lungs to survive.

Zhengxi’s own hardon strained inside his pants. When Jian Yi had called, he’d taken the stairs two at a time, surprised to hear that tone at that volume and even more surprised to walk in on Jian Yi recently spent with Mo still between his legs. He couldn’t think of why Jian Yi had called him up at first, especially not when Mo looked at him like he might be in trouble, backing away on instinct. And then Jian Yi had grabbed Mo, wrapped himself around him and asked Zhengxi for help. He understood then what had happened—what the call was all about.

An arm slung over Zhengxi’s shoulders and He Tian leaned around him to look at the bed, his eyebrows going up. “Oh. Well. I guess you guys like the bed…”

“Just the one bed?” Zhengxi asked, voice even.

He Tian’s arm flexed along the back of his shoulders, giving away the jump of his nerves though his expression stayed cool. “Is it a problem?” he asked, trying to sound casual but Zhengxi had already clocked the moment of panic.

He managed to tear his attention off the two naked men dry humping and making out in their bed and look up at He Tian beside him, arm still over his shoulders but no longer leaning on him. There was still apprehension between them, still something careful. “The only problem is who’s fucking who…” Zhengxi quirked a smile, watching He Tian long enough to see his relief and happiness.

Mo moaned in a cry and they both turned to look. Jian Yi had Mo on his back, holding on to his thighs and licking and sucking his way up his cock before wrapping his mouth around him. Mo groaned again, arching, one hand on Jian Yi’s head. “Y-You don’t have to… Hnnn…” He writhed when Jian Yi reached up hurriedly, pushing a finger into Mo’s ass.

Zhengxi jumped forward, out of He Tian’s arms and back onto the bed. He caught Jian Yi’s elbow just as he was pressing a second finger into Mo, not thinking to grab lube in his eagerness. Jian Yi leaned up, releasing Mo’s sex from his mouth to blink in bleary confusion.

He Tian joined them on the large bed, having already taken off his shirt and opened the front of his jeans. He pulled Mo out from under Jian Yi.

“Don’t worry about it, Xi,” He Tian promised. “It would take more than an unlubed finger  to hurt our, Red.”

Mo was panting, rock hard and squirming. He Tian flipped him over, pulling his hips up and back until his ass was in the air.  He sucked on two fingers, wetting them before sliding one into his boyfriend, pumping twice before adding a second.

Jian Yi shivered under Zhengxi, crawling toward Mo at the head of the bed before rolling onto his back to look at Zhengxi, flushed and unsure. Zhengxi crawled after him, stroking his cheek and kissing him deeply. He kissed him until he felt him melting under him, fingers wandering up Zhengxi’s sides, pushing his shirt up. He broke the kiss to sit up and strip his shirt off.

He Tian was still fingering Mo, working him into choked moans as the redhead seemed to be trying to hold his sounds back.

Jian Yi looked at him, watching, his eyes growing glassy and his cock stirring again. “Are you sure I didn’t hurt him?” Jian Yi asked.

He Tian actually laughed, biting lightly along Mo’s spine. “You just got him riled up, sweetheart.”

Zhengxi pushed Jian Yi up the bed until his back was leaned against the pillows and headboard, so he could see Mo and He Tian. He kissed his neck, up to his ear, loving every shiver that ran through Jian Yi’s body. Their relationships with He Tian and Mo had been good for Jian Yi. He was bolder and more comfortable with sex than he’d ever been. “Did you want to be inside him?” Zhengxi whispered, so that the question would be between them even now. He doubted it, but he wouldn’t risk not asking.

Jian Yi blushed deeply and shook his head. “I just wanted him to get off too.”

“Is that why you called me?” Zhengxi asked, stroking Jian Yi’s growing sex.

Jian Yi moaned, hips rocking into his hand. “I-I knew you’d make sure he did…” he whispered, eyes glassy as he watched the other couple.

Zhengxi followed his gaze. Mo was face down on the bed, ass up and hands twisting in the covers as He Tian fingered him, a third digit in now. Mo was turning red for his effort not to make sounds, all of them colliding in his chest in a mess of whimpers and groans.

Just when Zhengxi started to worry, He Tian leaned over Mo, hand still moving fingers inside him in a slow, steady rhythm. His mouth brushed Mo’s ear. “Breathe, MoMo,” he purred. “You’re safe. You can let it out. You know you can. Look at them…”

Mo held his breath tight but opened his eyes, cheek on the mattress and teary eyes focusing on Jian Yi and Zhengxi.

He Tian smiled wolfishly, mouth still close to Mo’s ear. “You could say anything in front of them. You know you could…” he whispered, like a voice in a person’s head, egging them on. Not for the first time, Zhengxi wondered what sex with He Tian would be like. He was controlling, especially with Mo, almost wicked, but then he could be gentle and sweet with Jian Yi. No matter what, he never seemed to cross any lines—always looking for what they wanted.

Mo panted, pulling at the covers and shivering. “F-Fuck me… Someone… Please…” he begged, blushing bright but his eyes too glassy with need to even focus now.

The three of them moaned almost at once and Zhengxi felt Jian Yi’s cock throb in his hand. “Shit…” Jian Yi almost whined. He pawed at Zhengxi’s sides, hands sliding down until he was pulling open his jeans, face against his neck with little whimpers of his own. That was about as close as Jian Yi ever got to asking for a fuck.

In the months of their fourway relationship, and all their pairings and group activities, they’d never actually had sex side by side like this before. Zhengxi moaned when Jian Yi pushed his pants down his hips and started stroking him. There was an urgency in Jian Yi now, his breath fast and body shaking. He was close already, wound tight, and Zhengxi had been with him long enough to know that his boyfriend wanted him inside him before he lost himself. He lifted Jian Yi’s thighs, spreading them and pulling him up into his lap, their cocks rubbing together.

Just before he could slide his hand around the back of Jian Yi’s thigh, a hand grabbed his wrist, jerking his arm back and up. He looked, surprised, and stared when He Tian opened his mouth and sucked Zhengxi’s fingers, sliding his tongue between the two, before letting them go slick.

Zhengxi shuddered out a breath, rubbing his wet fingers together for a second before going back to the task of stretching Jian Yi. He didn’t take more time than he had to, Jian Yi already thrusting back against his hand.

He closed his eyes, body shuddering a moan when he heard by Mo’s sounds that He Tian was pushing into him, feeling the bed rock once and then twice in their testing thrusts. Jian Yi groped at his shoulders, his own version of begging, and Zhengxi was more than happy to give him what he wanted. He pulled Jian Yi down, holding the backs of his thighs and pushing himself up into him.

 

* * *

 

Mo was close, gasping for air, his body pressed into the mattress with every deep thrust and right in his line of sight were Zhengxi and Jian Yi. He shook, almost crying out when He Tian reached around him to stroke his aching sex in time with his rough thrusts. It was all too much, agonizingly good but too much. He couldn’t finish, his heart in his throat and his mind screaming. He squeezed his eyes shut, slamming his hips back into He Tian’s thrusts hard enough that one of He Tian’s hands caught his hip to keep him from pushing too hard.

He shuddered, feeling that they were close—that everyone was close—he felt like he was going to explode but it was too much all at once—too many sounds.

And then a hand slid over his and his whole world focused in. He gasped, opening his eyes to stare at his hand in that other, following it to Jian Yi who was half gone himself, legs wrapped around Zhengxi and cheeks flushed. Jian Yi squeezed his hand and it all came together. Mo moaned, body spasming and forehead pressing into the mattress when he came, setting off a cascade of the others until they were all spent.

When they finally started moving again, they discovered the massive shower and then went downstairs in time to start up the hot tub before sundown. They’d pull the top cover off the bed tonight, leave it on the floor with the dirt towels and snuggle up in the clean blankets—none of them imagining how everything would go wrong tomorrow. None of them knowing that tonight would be there last night in this bed.


	12. Steam

“Pick one to go with you. The other two get to stay here with us.”

He Tian froze. He stared at the other three. They had gone still too, looking up in shock and disbelief, or maybe just horror. “What?” He Tian hated the way the word croaked up out of his throat. This couldn’t be happening.

“You heard me. One. Pick one,” the man said, staring hard at He Tian, something in his gaze promising he’d enjoy whoever was left—that that enjoyment would leave scars on all of them.

“No,” He Tian ground out, but it was more to himself. He believed this guy. He could only choose one.

 

-12 hours earlier-

 

Zhengxi woke early and almost laughed when his vision cleared of sleep and caught their reflection in the overhead mirror. Jian Yi and Mo were curled up in the middle of the bed, Jian Yi against Mo’s chest, arm draped over him and hand curled in He Tian’s shirt. Zhengxi’s legs and Jian Yi’s were tangled together and he’d been curled against his back.

He watched all four of them there together and wondered why it wasn’t strange. He had hoped things would work between all four of them, but he had never imagined it working this well. He’d imagined their friendship with the benefits of sex. But this was so much more than that.

He rolled out of bed, bare feet landing quietly on the rug, and padded from the bedroom into the large bathroom. The blackout curtains weren’t drawn in here, letting in early afternoon light and making him squint. He stretched, naked and alone. He peed and then jumped into the shower—which required no actual jumping since it wasn’t a tub. It was a large walk in with stone floor and walking on two sides and glass bricks on the others. He was only in the shower for a few minutes, letting the hot water beat into his muscles, when he felt someone watching him.

It could have been any of them, but it wasn’t. Jian Yi’s attention he could feel a mile away, familiar and frantic and so completely a part of him that it was like feeling the best version of his reflection looking back. And Mo looked at him with a nerve-wracking mix of want and uncertainty—like the redhead was raw, run ragged by holding his own emotions in check, and still he couldn’t help but look at Zhengxi. That gaze felt earned and fragile.

Neither of them were in the bathroom with him.

He turned slowly, under the spray, in the steam, and stared back at He Tian in the doorway of the shower, one naked shoulder leaning into the glass brick frame and his hip pushed out to the side, joggers riding low, baring the curve of bone under perfect skin.

Zhengxi hadn’t figured out exactly what He Tian’s attention meant, but he recognized the feel of it—setting his nerves on fire and making him feel like he was walking on unsteady ground. He understood his dynamic with Jian Yi and with Mo. He knew what he was to them and why they might want him. He didn’t know why He Tian looked at him like that. But he also didn’t know why he kept looking back—why he’d been the first to kiss He Tian in the kitchen months ago when they agreed to start this.

Had he kissed him back then to prove he was all in? Or because he had felt seen and acknowledged when He Tian asked if he was just putting himself into an open relationship to make Jian Yi happy—because he’d known Zhengxi well enough to know he’d do just about anything for Jian Yi and to have noticed that Zhengxi avoided contact with anyone else.

He Tian smiled and Zhengxi realized he must have been staring at him. The taller man slid his hand over his own side, fingers dipping beneath the hem of his joggers at his hip, pushing them even lower. “Can I join?” He asked, voice deep and rich.

Zhengxi shrugged like it wasn’t somehow one of the sexiest things he’d ever seen and turned away from the sight while He Tian was slipping out of his pants. He closed his eyes and pushed his face under the spray of the shower. Why did that make his pulse jump? All because he’d asked rather than assuming?

His skin tightened into goosebumps despite the heat and he knew He Tian was right behind him. He held his breath, waiting for him to touch him, but he didn’t.

Zhengxi opened his eyes and stepped to the side, hand scrubbing the water from his face in time to watch He Tian step under the spray. He watched him wet his hair and his body and thought about what it would be like to kiss him, to press him up against a wall, to be on top of him and under him.

“Xi,” He Tian breathed his name, stepping back from the spray of water and tipping his head, staring at him. They were only an arm’s reach apart.

Zhengxi tensed, not sure if he was afraid He Tian would move in on him or overwhelmed with his own impulse to move closer, to push him up against the wall. But he didn’t move, because he still wasn’t sure what would happen if he started things between them.

He Tian’s head tipped to the side, dark eyes studying him, like maybe there were words written across Zhengxi’s naked skin. Zhengxi knew he was semihard, but kept his expression unchanged even when He Tian let his gaze linger on his sex before dragging his eyes up to his again. “Do you want me to leave?”

Zhengxi considered saying yes. “No.”

He Tian took a step closer and then another, until he was right in front of him. His hand twitched, starting to reach out to Zhengxi’s side, like drawn by gravity, but stopped just short—Zhengxi’s skin jumping like he had touched him. Those dark eyes were studying him again. “Are we okay?”

Zhengxi shivered, looking back at him, not sure how to explain what he didn’t even fully understand.

“Xi…” He Tian tried again, tone deep but forever patient. “Are you attracted to me?”

Zhengxi exhaled. “Yes.”

He Tian’s shoulders dipped like he was relieved. Zhengxi was surprised to realize it, having thought the question was rhetorical. How could anyone not be attracted to He Tian?

“Can I touch you?” He Tian asked, a little smile at the corner of his mouth now.

Zhengxi hesitated.

The smile vanished.

He should have just said yes. Should have just kissed him like he did that first day and let whatever was going to happen happen. But he always overthought things.

 

* * *

 

 

He Tian retracted his almost touching hand. He hadn’t expected that hesitation after Zhengxi admitted to being attracted to him. He was _obviously_ attracted. “Xi…”

Zhengxi cringed and looked away at nothing, into the growing steam. He Tian studied his hard expression, catching the exhale of frustration and the crease of disappointment in the corner of his mouth. “I’m sorry…” he started.

He Tian shook his head, even if Xhengxi wasn’t looking. “Don’t. Just talk to me,” he whispered, leaning closer, still trying not to touch him despite how close they were now. “You’re attracted to me… But you don’t want me?” he tried to sound perfectly casual about it, unmoved, like he wasn’t seconds away from devouring that naked body in front of him. He wanted Xhengzi but more than that, he wanted Zhengxi to be happy.

The blond’s head snapped up, surprise in his eyes. He closed the space between them, hand curling against the back of He Tian’s neck and dragging him in for a deep kiss. They collided, Zhengxi’s body pressing flush against He Tian’s and He Tian’s slid one arm up his back, feeling his wet skin, his other hand finally resting against his hip, moaning into his hungry kiss. Zhengxi kissed like he was trying to make him understand something, like lives depended on this moment—the life of whatever the fuck they were becoming, maybe.

Their tongues warred, Zhengxi’s hand fisting in the back of He Tian’s hair and He Tian pushed forward, pressing Zhengxi’s back to the wall, rubbing their hips together. Zhengxi tensed the second he was pressed to the wall, mouth ripping from He Tian’s to moan, one hand pressing hard to He Tian’s chest as if to shove him away any second now, palm over his heart.

“You want me,” He Tian shuddered out, still catching his breath.

“I want you,” Zhengxi sounded almost tortured.

He Tian swallowed a moan, Zhengxi’s hand still gripping his hair but he didn’t seem to realize it and He Tian didn’t want to risk him realizing and letting go—putting them closer to the moment Xi might push him away. “What’s the problem?” he whispered, hips still pressed flush to Zhengxi’s.

Zhengxi winced, body twitching against his. “Wh-What do you want?” he asked instead of answering, gaze moving down to fix on He Tian’s mouth rather than his eyes.

He Tian blinked, confused, before exhaling a low laugh, the motion of it rubbing them together and making Zhengxi moan again. He Tian leaned down to kiss him again, remembering the way Zhengxi’s tongue had warred with his. “You want to fuck me, Xi?” he asked against his mouth, grinning when Zhengxi’s cock throbbed against his and a moan rattled in his chest.

“Yes,” Zhengxi practically growled against his mouth and He Tian finally recognized all the restraint oozing off of him. It reminded so much of his own, he hadn’t even noticed it—hadn’t recognized his own reflection. They both wanted—both comfortable with being in charge and on top.

He Tian bit at the inside of his lip to keep from grinning like a devil. He could work with this. He released Zhengxi and moved, turning to the wall to their side and putting his hands to it, ass out and legs spread. He shivered, the position sending a thrill through his chest and down to his gut. He looked over his shoulder at Zhengxi, feeling vulnerable and exposed and turned on.

Zhengxi looked him over, studying him in a way that promised he had every intention of taking advantage once he’d had his eyeful. He Tian shuddered and swallowed back a moan at being made to wait in that position. His skin jumped when Zhengxi ran a hand up his back, from the base of his spine all the way to the base of his skull, fingers fanning to palm the back of his head.

He Tian shivered. “Please…” he begged with want and loved the way Zhengxi’s body swayed like he’d been hit by a wave of lust.

He Tian leaned his forehead to the cool wall and dropped his mouth in a moan when a saliva slick finger slid into his body. Lips trailed his shoulder, tongue and teeth keeping his skin on edge. Another finger, moving, thrusting. He hadn’t played this role in nearly a year. Mo got an itch for it every so often, it was a rough and sudden event that He Tian was happy to go along with. He loved his usual role—he was good at his usual role—but there was something thrilling about this, about being so vulnerable and at the hand of someone else.

“He Tian...?” Zhengxi breathed against his shoulder, hand still moving, steadily thrusting. There were several questions there. He Tian heard them through the growing haze of his own pleasure. Zhengxi was asking if he was sure—if this was okay—if this was going to happen. There was lust and uncertainty in his voice, all puffed across his skin with those fingers still moving inside him.

“Yes,” He Tian ground out, hips shaking for his efforts not to thrust back against his hand. “Please… Please, Xi.”

Zhengxi bit lightly at his shoulder and then the hand was gone. He Tian’s eyes opened, staring at the wall, knowing what was coming and feeling his heart in his throat and his pulse in his sex. He moaned, the sound grinding in his throat when Zhengxi pushed inside of him, filling and driving deep. “Fuuuck…” he practically choked when he bottomed out.

Zhengxi stopped there, hands on He Tian’s hips, holding so that he couldn’t move to get friction—couldn’t have anything but that feel of fullness. He didn’t say anything either. Didn’t narrate or jeer or press his lover to say things the way He Tian would have. He just waited through He Tian’s sounds and swears and please. Waited silently, drinking him in maybe, his own thoughts a mystery and his sex the only proof he was as excited as He Tian himself.

And then his fingers flexed into He Tian’s hips, holding tight and pulling back, almost leaving him completely empty before shoving in again.

Distantly, He Tian was grateful for the endless spray of the shower in the stone room, helping to muffle his panting and moaning and the clapping of flesh. Eventually he thought he’d go mad, hands curling into fists against the wall, resisting the urge to touch himself. He was about to beg for it, or try to despite his struggle to make wet sounds into words, when Zhengxi’s hand wrapped around him, stroking and thrusting harder, driving him almost violently over the edge.

Zhengxi followed, panting against the back of his neck.

They stayed like that for long seconds, connected and lost.

When Zhengxi slid out of him and stepped back, He Tian turned and slumped back against the wall.

He Tian smiled, lazy and satisfied. “See, I wasn’t bullshitting you when I said I’d go either way, Xi. I like sex. And I love—” He Tian broke off, surprising himself. He hadn’t meant to almost say that. He had just been fucked and now he felt exposed—more vulnerable than ever. _Fuck._ It had been going so well. He’d figured out what Zhengxi was hung up on and was more than capable of making it work. And somehow he’d tripped over the finish line. He Tian swallowed hard, mind racing to come up with some casual explanation or sidestep. Maybe he could finished the sentence another way? Or just change the subject and Zhengxi would ignore it.

“You confuse me, you know that?” Zhengxi whispered, leaning forward to pin him to the wall again, gentler this time. “You make me want things I never wanted, and you make me nervous. I don’t know what you want from me or what you’re thinking when you look at me. I’ve seen you with Mo and with Jian Yi, and I know how you love them,” he said, using the word like it was as real and obvious as any other. Like it didn’t drive a wedge of “too much” between them.

He Tian shivered, leaning his forehead against Zhengxi’s, and touching the sides of his face. “I do.” It felt like a confession, but still the most obvious truth.

Zhengxi nodded and kissed him softly. “I want that love,” he confessed so quietly—one confession traded for another maybe.

He Tian sighed happily and stole another kiss. He watched Zhengxi slip from his arms and back into the shower spray, pulling him to follow. “Have you ever been fucked, Xi?” he asked as casually as he could. Zhengxi had been so worried he would insist on being on top that he’d hesitated to start things.

“No,” Zhengxi said in the same carefully casual tone.

He Tian nodded, relieved that a bad experience hadn’t been what put Zhengxi off. “Do you want to?”

Zhengxi tensed, glancing sideways at He Tian. He paused long enough that He Tian expected him to say “no” again and leave it at that. And He Tian would leave it at that. They could do things one way forever and he would be more than happy to play along—better that than pressuring him into something he didn’t want to do.

“You confuse me,” Zhengxi said again, low. “You make me want things I never wanted…” He flushed, looking at He Tian with a hint of nerves that hadn’t been there since this conversation began and He Tian first stepped into the shower. “But I don’t know if I can,” he rushed to say, like he was afraid that He Tian would take the confession as a contract and pounce.

He Tian turned into the shower spray, to make it clear he wasn’t going to reach for Zhengxi—and give him time to remember that he’d never given him reason to distrust him. He put his face under the spray to give himself another second to compose himself, to hide the rush at the idea of fucking Zhengxi and the pride at having tempted him. “You don’t have to do anything, Xi. And if you want to try, we can do that. And if you change your mind at any point, we’ll stop and that’ll be okay.” He Tian said. The silence stretched. He turned off the water and turned, half expecting Zhengxi to have already left.

The blond stood there still, watching him with one of those unreadable expressions.

They both heard Mo and Jian Yi play arguing in the other room.

“Okay,” Zhengxi said, quirked a small smile, and then grabbed a towel and slipped out of the bathroom.

“Okay,” He Tian parroted after him, biting back his own grin. It was going to be hard not to fantasize about Xi—about being his first in some way.


	13. Choices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning/Added tag: Violence

Zhengxi padded barefoot down the stairs, smiling to himself at the voices carrying from the upstairs bedroom he’d left. The whole first floor was dark. They’d spent the day just the four of them, in this cabin up a mountain in an autumn forest. It had been the best day of his life, and he had no idea it would become the worst.

Zhengxi was halfway to the kitchen when he felt it—a cold breeze and a chilling wrongness. He stopped, dead still, and felt the air move through the open floorplan. He turned slowly, moving toward the breeze until he was marching to the front door. His heart thumped up in his throat. It had been closed and locked. He’d been the last in after they got back from hiking today. He had locked it himself.

When he reached it, he knew it was too late—he knew in his bones that there were strangers inside the cabin, in the dark, watching him. He could throw open the door and run. He was fast. He was strong. Danger ran nails up his spine and he tried to count the numbers of intruders in the dark around him. He closed the door but didn’t lock it. “He Tian!” he shouted, sounding angry rather than afraid. “Did you leave the fucking door open?” He had never used that tone with He Tian—with anyone he could even think of.

The bedroom door opened and He Tian stepped out, leaning against the railing to look down at him—the light from the room making him glow from behind. Still, Zhengxi saw the lift of his brow and his narrowed eyes. He’d know there was something wrong with that tone and those words. He’d know him well enough.

He Tian started for the stairs.

“Are you a total fucking slob?” Zhengxi snapped and He Tian froze where he was, staring down at him. Zhengxi felt the shadows stirring.  “Maybe you should grab your shit and get out!”

He Tian took a step back, looking around the big open floor and all the thick darkness. “Xi…” he said, an exhale of distress, because Zhengxi was telling him to leave him where he was and it went against his instincts—the last sweet thought streaking across Zhengxi’s mind before shoes scuffed the floor and figures erupted from the dark. Too many.

“Get out!” Zhengxi yelled. All hell broke loose and Zhengxi curled his lip in a snarl, rushing that short distance to the stairs, not to climb it and flee, but to block it and give them time. He kicked the first man that came, ducked a fist and shoved another. They were all shouting now, a mess of voices demanding that he be brought down and the rest grabbed. Their voices were charged with excitement—the thrill of a hunt.

Zhengxi fought against a wave of muscle, kicking and punching until he was dragged under, until his back hit the stairs and a boot slammed his skull to the wall and showed him a new darkness—a complete darkness.

 

* * *

 

 

“He Tian!” a voice howled up the stairs, jeering like a jackal in the night.

He pushed his back to the door just as it lurched on its hinges, cringing because that meant Zhengxi had fallen. “Go!” he yelled for the second time. Mo had pushed Jian Yi out the window, sending him down the slant of the roof and onto the slope of the land, but he hesitated to follow. Of course, he did. But he’d know he had to go—that it was their best chance.

Once his redhead was out the window and gone into the night, he exhaled, cringing when a hatchet slammed the other side of the door, splitting the wood.

“Open up, rich boy!” The hatchet wiggled and jerked free on the other side.

He Tian looked toward the window, to the night outside. He could hold this long enough to try to give them a head start and then follow. Maybe he’d get away too.

Another slam of the hatchet, this time it pulled a piece of the door free.

He Tian closed his eyes, shutting out the image of the open window. He wasn’t going anywhere—not without Zhengxi. “Keep swinging that and you’ll split my head!” he yelled.

The hatchet fell on the floor in the hall with a heavy thud and a breathy laugh. “You’re no newbie at this,” the man said and He Tian could hear his smile. And then he heard someone else walking down the hall, dragging something heavy. “We both know you’re going to open that door, rich boy.”

Zhengxi groaned and He Tian winced.

“You could try to barricade yourself in there… Or make a run for it like your friends did,” the stranger continued. “But if you do that, I’ll stay right here. I’ll take it out on this nobody and if you do get away, I’ll leave pieces of him behind for you to find but only pieces.”

He Tian shivered, squeezing his hands into tight fists. He’d only held the door this long in hopes that they’d think Mo and Jian Yi were still in here too. He would never have been able to leave and chance what would happen to Zhengxi. “And what’s the plan…” he didn’t even know what to call this guy.

“San,” he provided a name for himself. “And the plan is simple. You’re going to take a ride with my friends and get us the money we want, and in return I won’t kill your… What the fuck is this guy to you, anyway?”

He Tian swallowed hard. Money. That was a relief at least. Not revenge or some long, sloppy ransom to his family.

San sighed, like the seconds of pause had been too many minutes to tolerate. “I guess it doesn’t matter. You have backups.”

Before He Tian could stand up straight, leaning away from the door, a gunshot clapped in the hallway just on the other side of the door—making his whole body jerk and his heart pound in his chest. His whole world threatened to break right then and there. He practically ripped what was left of the door off the hinges, shouldering past San in a mad scramble for Zhengxi where he lay on the floor, blood oozing from his temple.

“Nononono,” trailed from He Tian’s mouth, pulling Zhengxi into his lap on the floor and stroking his blond hair back from his face. He had a gash in his temple, the side of his face red where it would eventually turn into a deep bruise if he lived long enough. A gash, but not a bullet hole. With trembling hands he patted his boyfriend down, but didn’t find any wounds. Tears burned his eyes when he looked up at San.

The man grinned down at him, not much older than them but with a cruelty that defied age. He nudged his head toward one of the other men in the hallway, holding a gun still aimed at a hole in the wall. “He gets impatient. My apologies,” San said dryly.

He Tian hissed but he was already being hauled to his feet, arms pulled behind his back and bound with thick zip ties. He tensed but didn’t fight, looking down at Zhengxi again. The blond was waking up, eyes opening but blinking against the fog of a possible concussion. “Fuck…” he croaked, trying to move but finding his wrists bound in front of him.

“Take it easy, Xi. You’re going to be okay,” he said, trying to set the bar low with just “okay” in a desperate effort to be comforting but not a completely fucking liar.

San laughed, amused. “Bring them in here, this is as good a room as any.” He turned and lead the way into the bedroom. He Tian glared at the man that dragged Zhengxi in, trying to shoulder the one holding him off to get closer to his boyfriend but they wouldn’t let him go. Zhengxi they sat up in the corner against the head of the bedframe, lifting his arms up over his head and using another zip tie to bind his wrists to the framework.

He Tian had to bite his tongue to keep from trying to plea with them, to suggest they let Zhengxi go with his word he’d still do what they wanted. That wasn’t how this worked. “Okay,” he exhaled, nodding. “Let’s go then.”

San grinned. “You didn’t even ask how much money I want?”

“I assume you’ll tell me before we get to the bank.” He was trying to look away from Zhengxi—if only to keep San from realizing how desperate he was to get this done and save them from anymore pain.

San came closer and He Tian leaned forward against the grip of the two men beside him when San walked to Zhengxi, cocking his head to the side. “This one isn’t your boyfriend…” he said like he really wasn’t sure, glancing back at He Tian. “Everyone knows you’ve been obsessed with that redhead since school. But I couldn’t help but notice this place only has one bed…” He reached out and grabbed Zhengxi’s head by the hair, pulling him forward and straining his arms where they were bound overhead.

He Tian forced himself not to react, staring coldly at this man.

“What? One just wasn’t enough for you?” San prodded, an edge of bitter fury in his voice now—twisting the violent joy that had been there before. “Is that it, rich boy? You’re fucking all three of them?” He gave Zhengxi’s head another tug and He Tian noticed how he was pulling Zhengxi’s face closer to his crotch—intentional or not.

“He fucks me,” He Tian said, voice hard but a quirk of a smile in the corner of his mouth. Maybe it would help, if this guy saw Zhengxi not as He Tian’s possession but the other way around. Maybe that mattered. Maybe it would take the fun out of whatever the fuck this was. Maybe.

Zhengxi was blinking back to life, licking the blood from his lips and cutting his dark blue gaze to He Tian—looking for queues.

San barked a laugh, looking disbelieving for a moment before glancing between the two again, reconsidering maybe, but He Tian didn’t like how he seemed to be imagining it.

The bang of the front door downstairs jarred San from his thoughts, turning his attention toward the door. Shouting echoed up the hallway and He Tian closed his eyes, suppressing all of his gut reactions to the sound of Mo’s voice in this house again. They were being hauled up the stairs, both Jian Yi and Mo dragged into he room. Jian Yi was pushed in first, shouting and calling them cowards and shits. He lost his steam when he saw Zhengxi in the corner, one side of his face smeared in blood. “Shit,” he shook off the thug pushing him and ran over to Xi, knees hitting the floor beside him and bound hands coming up to hover over his temple.

Mo was dragged in between two man, both his wrists and his ankles tied, wearing nothing but his joggers and sneakers. His mouth dripped blood, one corner of it red where he’d taken a fist to the face. One of the guys carrying him looked like he had a broken nose. “Had to tie his legs. He kept kicking…” the guy with the broken nose grumbled. They dumped him on the floor and Jian Yi grabbed Mo’s shoulders, helping to pull him into an upright sitting position against the side of the bed.

Jian Yi snickered at the man with the broken nose. “You had it coming, asshole.”

He Tian supposed it was a blessing they were still in high spirits—still rowdy.

“Pick one to go with you. The other two get to stay here with us,” San said.

He Tian froze. He stared at the other three. They had gone still too, looking up in shock and disbelief, or maybe just horror. “What?” He Tian hated the way the word croaked up out of his throat. This couldn’t be happening.

“You heard me. One. Pick one,” the man said, staring hard at He Tian, something in his gaze promising he’d enjoy whoever was left—that that enjoyment would leave scars on all of them.

“No,” He Tian ground out, but it was more to himself. He believed this guy. He could only choose one.

“Pick one. My men will drive you down to the city. By the time you get there it’ll be morning and the bank will be open. When you’ve handed over the money, they’ll give me a call and I’ll leave. No damage done.”

It was a lie. They all knew it. There was no way they were getting out of this night without damages.

No one said anything. No one shouted to be saved or told him who to pick.

He Tian looked at Mo and those impossible red eyes. He was on the edge of wild but still there enough to give He Tian a sharp nod. He Tian bit through his tongue to keep from screaming, stealing his jaw and tipping his head back—ripping his gaze off the love of his life and pointing at Jian Yi. “That one.”

Jian Yi’s eyes flared and He Tian looked away.

“What? No!” Jian Yi yelled.

San laughed.

He Tian moved fast, hauling Jian Yi to his feet and dragging him out of the house, one armed thug ahead of them and another behind, leading them out to an SUV. Neither Zhengxi nor Mo said anything.

“No!” Jian Yi shouted angrily. One of the thugs pulled him from He Tian’s arms and shoved him into the front seat, tapping a gun to his head to shut him up.

“Watch it, kid. You’re expendable, remember?”

Jian Yi almost gawked, probably about to scream something like _“do you know who I am?”_ before the door was slammed in his face. He Tian was shoved into the backseat, one guy beside him with a gun and the other driving.

“You son of a bitch!” Jian Yi raged, twisting sideways in the front seat to glare back at He Tian. “Why did you pick me? You think I’m the weakest? Is that it?”

“Shut the fuck up,” the goon in the backseat snapped. The car was barreling down the mountain road now, headlights bouncing off the trees and pressing at shadows.

“Why me?” Jian Yi yelled.

He Tian closed his eyes. He couldn’t look at him. He had to think. If they got to the bottom of the mountain, to the city and the bank, to get the money—it wouldn’t be in time. He could feel it in his bones. A clock was running and he could lose more than he could live without.

“He Tian!” Jian Yi shouted so loud that He Tian’s eyes opened and found those wheat colored ones staring back at him, demanding an answer He Tian couldn’t give. Why him? Because it was the only choice. Because if he’d taken Mo, he would have forever drawn the line between himself and Mo, and Jian Yi and Xi. Xi would never have trusted him or forgiven him—not really. And Mo would have been furious and riddled with guilt for whatever happened to Xi and Jian Yi. The four of them would have been ruined. And now? Now that he’d chosen one of them—chosen Jian Yi and left Mo and Xi to whatever was going to happen in that cabin with San? Would they ever be okay? Even if nothing happened. Even if he could figure this out—he had chosen one of them.

 

* * *

 

 

Mo twisted his wrists against the zip ties, trying to pull himself free, ripping at his skin. The SUV had left, the sound of it gone along with He Tian, Jian Yi, and two of the goons.

“Stop,” Xi whispered and Mo looked up, those dark blue eyes staring at his abused wrists with sympathy.

Mo almost felt bad for him, because he had no idea how bad this could get. But he also couldn’t pull himself free of these ties. His ankles were tied together too, his mouth tasted like blood and his busted lip throbbed. “Xi… Don’t say anything. Just… Just stay quiet and he’ll leave you alone.” He hoped he wasn’t lying. He was going to kick and scream and probably get all the attention he never wanted, but at least Xi could slide by.

“Red…” Xi’s brow pinched, confused and worried.

The thugs just outside the door shuffled back and San returned to the room. He smirked, the gesture cruel and walked over to where they sat on the floor. He squatted down in front of them. “How are we doing boys?”

Both Xi and Mo glared.

San laughed. “Fair enough.” He looked between them and then finally settled his gaze on Mo. “You must be, Red. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”

Mo grinned, baring blood-stained teeth in a feral snarl.

 

* * *

 

 

Zhengxi felt a wash of cold slice down his spine at the way the man calling himself, San, set his attention on Mo. He had been so relieved when He Tian got Jian Yi out of this cabin and then slapped with guilt because it left Mo here with him. And now that guilt was sinking into a dark pit in his stomach because this man was looking at Mo like a rabbit in a snare and Zhengxi realized that Mo wasn’t stuck here with him—he was here with Mo.

San reached out, grabbing Mo by the neck and pulling him up until his spine stretched, ass off the floor and face close to his. “I heard you were going to be difficult… I guess it’s a blessing they already tied you up for me.”

“Let him go,” Zhengxi growled, for the first time really testing his own bindings and leaning away from the bedframe, his zip ties cutting into his wrists.

San pulled Mo away from Zhengxi, getting out of the reach of his legs but not leaving the large room. “I think we’ll do this here…” he said, voice growing thick and deep with eagerness.

Zhengxi felt sick, mind racing to look for any meaning but the one he knew San meant—what he could see in San’s eyes.

Mo snapped his teeth at San when he leaned close, legs kicking together and heels smacking the floor, body bowing in his effort to get away. San held on a little longer, obviously enjoying the struggle before finally dropping him. Mo bit off wheezing curses, calling this already dangerous man every name he could think of and Zhengxi wanted to cry because he realized why he’d been told to be quiet—what Mo planned to see through. He’d wriggle and swear and keep this monster’s attention.

“Stop,” Zhengxi coughed, not even sure which one of them he was talking to at first, tears biting his eyes.

San kicked Mo hard in the chest, sliding his body across the floor and back into the wall. The goon at the door flushed, shuffling away down the hall and out of sight—like not even he wanted to see what was coming. San panted, flushed with excitement, and started fumbling open his belt buckle.

“Wait!” Zhengxi shouted, straining his ties, the thick plastic biting into his wrists.

San stared at him for what felt like the first time, surprised to see him there, looking him over thoughtfully and with that nasty interest.

“Take me,” Zhengxi said, nodding as he did. “I’ll do anything you want. You want me to beg and cry, I’ll do it. You want me to say I want it, to beg for more, I’ll do it.”

Mo was coughing for air, blinking back tears of pain as he struggled to catch his breath. That wild glaze of his eyes cleared for a surprised flicker, staring at Zhengxi. He tried to shake his head, struggling to turn over but San put a boot to his back to keep him flat on his stomach.

San actually hesitated, staring down at Zhengxi for a long second and then smiling slowly. “You’re serious.” It wasn’t a question.

Zhengxi nodded hurriedly. “Anything you want. _Anything._ ”

San chewed his lip for a second, considering it. And then he pulled his belt from the loops. “Sorry, but I was told to make sure Red got it.”

Zhengxi’s heart sank so low he thought he was going to pass out and when San started belting Mo’s naked arms and back, he pulled so hard at the zip ties that the skin around his wrists opened up. But he didn’t feel it. All he felt were those horrible sounds echoing through his own skin and the rising panic as everything escalated, already beyond his control, now growing beyond his nightmares.


	14. Crashing

Jian Yi sat in the front seat of the SUV as it raced down the winding mountain road. He Tian wouldn’t answer him—wouldn’t even speak. He had shut down. But not before choosing Jian Yi over the other two. Why? His mind spun. Zhengxi had been tied up when he was dragged away—tied up and already beaten. And Mo had been tied too. They were helpless.

He squeezed his eyes shut and all he could think about was standing in the woods with Mo.

 

_The cold air bit at his skin and Mo’s hand felt so warm over his face, holding his mouth shut and using that stern voice to steady him._

_The gunshot blared across the night and they both jumped. Jian Yi felt like the whole world was sliding out from under him. He lurched forward, toward the sound. There was a rustling in the trees around the cabin now too. Mo caught his arm, hauling him back and starting to drag him into the woods._

_“We have to go back!” Jian Yi cried, tears blurring his vision now as he tried not to imagine Zhengxi dead. Or He Tian. Or both._

_Mo continued to drag him. “Shut up. Just be quiet and run.”_

_Jian Yi shook his head until his skull hurt and finally jerked them to a stop._

_Mo turned back to stare at him, his red eyes wide. “Ji, please…”_

_There were footfalls in the woods, crunching leaves and twigs and stomping closer, shouting and running flashlights through the dark._

_“We can’t leave them.”_

_“Please, Ji,” Mo tried again, reaching for him, hand shaking. “You don’t understand. We need to get down the mountain.”_

_Jian Yi looked at the hand. He wanted to take it, but he knew if he did he’d try to drag Mo back with him. “How can you abandon them?”_

_“You saw how many they are, didn’t you? They have weapons. What do you think you’re going to do?” Mo’s voice sharpened, their nerves rising as the voices neared. They were losing whatever chance they had to get away._

_Jian Yi shook his head hard, tears in his eyes, because he knew Mo was right but he couldn’t do it—couldn’t go. He clicked his teeth and turned, pulling away from Mo and darting back toward the house._

_He didn’t make it far, flashlight in his face and arms grabbing him up, hauling him off his feet. Jian Yi swore and kicked but it was half-hearted. He had known what would happen when he turned back. He wanted to see his boys and know they were okay._

_“Who do we have here?” the man who had grabbed him up hummed, the other still shining a light in his face._

_His heart lurched into his throat and he felt a wave of nausea realizing he was in the dark with strangers—violent strangers bent on holding them hostage or kidnapping them or god knows what. Why hadn’t he even thought to wonder about that? Oh yeah, the gunshot and needing to lay eyes on Xixi and He Tian. He just needed them to take him back to the house._

_“This can’t be the one San was talking about…” the one with the light said, reaching out to grab Jian Yi’s jaw before he could bite him, holding his jaw high. The arms around his chest squeezed tighter until he could barely fill his lungs halfway._

_“Maybe we shouldn’t take him back,” the one holding him said, mouth close to Jian Yi’s ear. “We could say we didn’t find him. The two of us would still be a kinder end than San…”_

_Jian Yi didn’t even have the time to feel that paralyzing terror when another body slammed into his side, tackling himself and his capture onto the leaves. The commotion that followed lead another searching thug to them, but they didn’t manage to scoop Mo up before he headbutted one man in the side of the head and kicked the first in the nose when he was still trying to get up. He yelled and spat, cursing all of them and calling them names like nothing Jian Yi had ever heard—and he’d grown up with the fucker._

_It was like Mo was trying to piss them off—trying to keep their focus._

_They hit him hard and Jian Yi spasmed to laugh, tackling the one that punched him. It was all a great mess of a scrap that they’d never had a chance of winning and at the time he could only feel a strange happiness that Mo had come back with him—hadn’t left him or let him go alone._

 

Now, sitting in the car, moving farther and farther from the cabin, he felt sick with guilt. Why had He Tian picked him? How could he leave Mo? And the guilt grew because a part of him was so horribly relieved, despite his terror for Zhengxi and Mo. He was relieved to be gone and overwhelmed with the guilt of it—a thousand times more than trying to walk away from the house. He kept thinking about Mo’s hand reaching out to him, shaking, pleading with him to trust him and take it.

He wished he had taken that hand and never let it go. He wished he’d trusted him. But it was too late now and every minute in this car drove them impossibly farther away. He couldn’t go. Just like he couldn’t go into the woods with Mo when he’d begged him to. He couldn’t go down this road.

Jian Yi leaped out of his seat without warning, throwing himself at the driver. He latched onto the steering wheel and pushed it hard to one side, latching onto it and pressing his chest into it, unmovable in those terrifying, loud seconds when the car drove off the road and down into the woods. Headlights flashed across trees, landing on the last one just before the car slammed into it and he felt the full shape of the steering wheel press into his chest, as though it would be felt there forever—or for whatever time he had left.

In the dark stillness in his head, he was in the woods again and Mo was holding out his hand. It shook, like he knew he wouldn’t take it. Oh god, had he known he wouldn’t take it? Was that why it shook? Would he ever get another chance?

Jian Yi woke up, the horn blaring endlessly and the steering wheel still pressed to his chest. For long seconds he couldn’t breathe. And then he sucked one gasp in and it sent pain shooting through his body. He had no time to wonder at all that sharp agony because the man in the driver’s seat was thrashing, shouting for his partner in the backseat to shoot Jian Yi and get him out of the damn car.

Jian Yi squirmed around, managing to wrench himself from the driver’s groping hands and back into his own seat, realizing then that everything was sprayed in broken glass, the cold air rolling in and out freely and the whole vehicle tipped forward. Smoke rolled up into he cab, making his eyes water and his throat burn. The goon in the backseat was gone, out the front window and very dead. And the driver was thrashing still, his legs pinned. He was trying to grab his gun from inside his jacket.

Jian Yi’s heart pounded against the inside of his skull. He reached out, latching onto the man’s arms, struggling to keep him from his gun. “H-He Tian!” he shouted, breath wheezing and gaze shooting to the backseat through the smoke and his tears.

He Tian was still there, moving sluggishly. Alive.

“He Tian!” Jian Yi shouted, but it came out cracked, his chest screaming pain and his arms shaking in their struggle to keep the driver from his gun. “Fuck!”

He was losing the battle. He was going to be shot in this car and never get back.

Just when his own vision started blurring at the edges, He Tian reached forward, grabbing at the seatbelt and pulling it across his throat, pulling hard from behind. Jian Yi coughed and wheezed, cringing against the agony in his chest but holding tight at the man’s hands—keeping him from grabbing at the seatbelt now.

 

* * *

 

 

He Tian pulled hard, his knee to the back of the seat in front of him and both hands fisted in the belt. He could see Jian Yi in the front seat, trying to hold the man’s hands down. They didn’t say anything else, struggling through those long minutes until he finally collapsed. Jian Yi coughed, making a horrible wheezing sound when he sucked at air.

He Tian untangled his hands from the belt and crawled across the seat to the higher side not wedged against trees. He pushed the door open and crawled out, his head still throbbing. He opened Jian Yi’s door and practically hauled him out of the SUV, smoke rolling out in thick plumes from the engine. He held Jian Yi up against his side and climbed up to the road again, his vision finally cleared again by the time they got there.

Jian Yi was shaking, his breath was shallow and raspy.

“Stay here,” He Tian said, surprised by the steadiness of his own voice. “Ji,” he said, catching those wheat eyes in the faint glow of the headlights in the ditch. “Stay here,” he repeated and then climbed back down into the woods. He hurried, leaning into the car to pat down the body in the front seat. He found a phone and a flashlight, grabbing the man’s gun too before heading back up to the dark road.

Jian Yi was there, though he’d sunk down to the pavement, sitting there in the dark taking shallow gasps. He Tian hurried to him, knees hitting the ground in front of him. He put the gun and phone down, clicking the flashlight on. He gently cradled the side of Jian Yi’s face, turning it up toward his. “Can you hear me?”

Jian Yi wrinkled his nose. “Of course, I can. We need to go,” he said, words strained.

He Tian didn’t say anything, gently lifting Jian Yi’s shirt up his chest and flashing the light on his torso. The dark red circle of the steering wheel was practically painted on his skin. It’d turn purple soon enough. He gently ran his hand down Jian Yi’s side, feeling the shape of his ribs beneath lean muscle. Jian Yi jerked away from him, gasping in pain and struggling to catch his breath. He Tian nodded, catching him by the side of the neck in case he passed out before he could regain control of his breathing. Still shallow. “Okay. Okay. You have to sit here,” He Tian said, already feeling his friend prepare to argue. “I’m going back to the cabin. You call the police and get an ambulance.”

“No. I—”

“Your ribs are broken, Ji. You can’t run. You might not even be able to walk back up there and I can’t carry you or wait.”

Jian Yi stared at him and then nodded once. “Go.”

He Tian almost leaned in to kiss him, looking for comfort and to comfort—but then he remembered how he’d chosen Jian Yi. How furious the blond had been. And what it might have cost them. He grabbed the flashlight and the gun and started running, first following the road and then veering off it to cut through the woods where he knew the path bent. 

He turned off the flashlight when he saw the glow of the house, studying it as he neared, looking for movement in the windows—anything to give him a clue of where they were in the cabin. He was almost to the porch when two gunshots almost made his knees buckle. He dropped the flashlight and forced his shoulders back. He had the gun in hand when he opened the front door and slipped inside.

There was no one on the first floor. His heart hammered in his throat but he forced his mind to clear—not to imagine what he might find. Not to think about those two shots being two bullets for two pieces of his heart.

He moved silently up the stairs, eyeing the hallway. The bedroom door was open, light glowing out of it. A body lay in the doorway, holding it open and bleeding out onto the hardwood.

He Tian moved along the wall, closer. A wave of relief rolled through him when he didn’t recognize the body. One of the thugs. From the angle he could see into the room, there was a second thug almost under this one, just as dead. Maybe these were the two shots? One right after the other? Both coming through the door.

“Mo?” He Tian called, taking the risk of giving himself away. It didn’t seem wise to go marching through this doorway considering the pile already there.

There were only a few seconds of silence after he spoke but it felt impossible long, impossibly void of life, crushing his heart like a frail shell under a stone.

“He Tian?” Zhengxi’s voice was small, tired beyond imagining and unsure—like maybe he didn’t believe he’d heard him at all.

“I’m coming in.” He stepped over the bodies, heel pressing into a puddle of blood.

He saw the third dead man, San. It hadn’t been as clean as a bullet.

Zhengxi and Mo were both sitting on the other side of the body, back to a wall on the far side of the room. Mo’s chest and arms were covered in welts, bright red against his pale skin, and his neck was ringed in a thick bruise already turning purple and blue. He was holding a gun, but as soon as his red eyes looked He Tian over, he put it down.

“Ji?” Zhengxi asked, voice quiet and so carefully steady. There were thick gashes circling his wrists, bleeding thick onto the floor, but he didn’t look like he noticed. The zip ties that had held him were snapped and on the floor.  His expression was stony exhaustion, eyes tear swollen like Mo’s, and that battered side of his face turning more purple than red now.

He Tian inched closer to them, crouching down and putting the gun he’d brought down. “He’s okay. He’s down the road and calling an ambulance.” He looked at Zhengxi’s battered and bloody hands, knuckles recently bloodied.

Zhengxi exhaled a heavy breath, shoulders sagging, and he looked like he might fall asleep right then—the last of his fears finally gone. He Tian and Jian Yi were fine—which meant everyone that had come to hurt them were gone.

He Tian pulled off his shirt and used it to wrap the worst of Zhengxi’s wrists. “MoMo, are you okay?” he asked softly, something about Mo’s silence making his skin tight.

“He can’t talk,” Xi explained almost absently, that complete exhaustion still thick in his words. “That guy…” he didn’t look at San’s body or say his name. “He had a belt around his neck.”

He Tian looked at Xi. He had so many questions, but he didn’t dare ask any of them yet. The red and blue lights flashed against the windows. Soon the police and the EMTs would be in the cabin and they’d be taken to a hospital. It would be a long night and a long day of explaining. He’d have to call He Cheng to deal with some of this—to clear everything up faster and make it go away. But he couldn’t really make it go away—couldn’t take it back. Someone had hurt everyone he loved and for what? His family money? And it didn’t escape the scope of his growing guilt that he was walking away with the least injuries—a handful of bruises from a car crash. How had this happened? How had his life changed so suddenly in just a few hours?

He didn’t have time to dwell on it. But he had time to study the welts and bruises on Mo’s chest and arms and that growing collar on his neck and the horrible way he wouldn’t make eye contact with anyone, glaring at a spot on the floor like he might be able to light it on fire with will alone.


	15. What happened?

What happened?

That had been the question since the first officer stepped into the house, on the lips of everyone all the way to the hospital. Police buzzed around them, asking again and again.

Jian Yi’s story had been clear. He could repeat it as many times as they liked.

He Tian’s was brittle, edged with guilt coating every word and he was sick of telling it almost as soon as the first round was done, because there was too little information in it. He didn’t know most of the important things. He knew about the car and the man that went out the front window and the driver he’d strangled with the seatbelt. It had all fit perfectly with Jian Yi’s accounting of the events.

And then there was Mo and Zhengxi.

Mo had no story to tell, saying nothing at all with the doctors confirming it was important he not speak for a while—his throat bruised a blue so deep it was almost black by the time they got to the hospital. Zhengxi had been the one to tell the story, the police taking notes and later asking Mo if it was correct. Mo had nodded and that had been the end of it.

Jian Yi had been in the room one of the times Zhengxi told the story of how the man calling himself San had beaten Mo, first hitting him with the belt and then eventually wrapping it around his neck and trying to strangle him. When the police asked why the man would do that when this was all a kidnap and ransom attempt gone wrong—Zhengxi had shrugged and explained simply that Mo had a mouth and he hadn’t taken well to being held hostage. Zhengxi had managed to break his zip ties—at extensive damage to his wrists—and tackled San off of Mo. They fought and Zhengxi won—his busted knuckles and San’s ruined face attesting to it. And then the other thugs had come running in, recognizing the change in commotion maybe. Mo had picked up San’s gun and shot the thugs as they came in the door.

That was what had happened.

That was all of it.

That was Zhengxi’s story.

And Jian Yi knew it was a lie.

At first, he thought it had to be the part about Zhengxi killing someone—part of his mind insisting it wasn’t possible—that he couldn’t have done it, not like that, not with his bare fists. But when Jian Yi was alone with him in the hospital room and asked, he knew that wasn’t it. Before Zhengxi could even confirm or deny, Jian Yi knew his Xixi had beaten a man to death tonight. And yet he blinked at Jian Yi like he barely remembered it—so basic that it was already being forgotten—the least important part of the story.

He reached out and touched Zhengxi’s bandaged wrists. The doctors said they would scar. “Everything you said was true?”

“Yes,” Zhengxi said, those dark blue eyes studying him with a deep and terrible swirl of thought behind his gaze, like he was trying not to imagine Jian Yi in that cabin with them.

“But there’s something you’re not telling?” Jian Yi whispered. He knew him better than anyone. He looked down at Zhengxi’s hands, at those knuckles. Zhengxi wasn’t an angry person. He wasn’t a violent person. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t be—that didn’t mean something couldn’t drive him to it.

The miserable exhaustion filled Zhengxi’s eyes. “Yes,” he said, and Jian Yi knew he couldn’t ask him to tell—not here and now, and maybe not ever.

The door opened and Mo leaned in, wearing a hospital gown for a shirt, his joggers bloody and his shoes gone. Somehow he wore it all casually, like he didn’t notice any change from his usual outfits. He looked at them both, mouth creasing because he wasn’t supposed to talk. Jian Yi let go of Zhengxi’s wrists because he couldn’t dare to tug at his hands when he moved toward the door and their redhead. “Can we leave?” Jian Yi asked.

Mo nodded, the gesture tight and echoing the pain in his body.

Jian Yi moved with the same stiff care. He’d fractured two ribs and had extensive bruising over his chest.

 

* * *

 

 

They shuffled out into the hallway of the sleepy hospital floor. It was dawn outside. He Tian’s brother had arrived and the two were talking beside an SUV that waited to drive them all home. They both went quiet and turned to see Jian Yi, Mo, and Zhengxi heading out. He Tian opened the backdoor.

Zhengxi noticed how he didn’t make eye contact with any of them. Jian Yi eased himself slowly into the backseat, scooting over. He was in pain, but Zhengxi was still so relieved—his pain nominal in comparison. Mo lingered outside the car, seeming to hesitate to get in. Zhengxi opened the front passenger door, ignoring the throbs of pain shooting up through his wrist and down into his fingers. He held the door and waited. Mo chewed his lower lip a second longer, not looking up from his own thoughts, but finally walking over and climbing into the front seat. He didn’t say anything, waiting silently for Zhengxi to close the door and get into the back.

Zhengxi did close the door but hesitated when he looked at He Tian still standing there. “He Tian,” he said his name, waiting for the raven-haired man to take those steps over to him. “Get in the car,” Zhengxi said, because he wasn’t sure he was going to. There was something edgy about him ever since they left the mountain—different from the rest of them. He was internalizing and spiraling away.

He Tian looked at him, uncertainty so clear on his face. He didn’t move toward the backseat.

Zhengxi’s heart sank so low into his gut that he felt sick again. He’d known He Tian would take everything on himself—that there would be repercussions for what happened tonight. But he hadn’t let himself imagine He Tian would just walk away. He closed the door gently and walked those few steps away from the car and up to He Tian. The taller man actually flinched, like Zhengxi might hit him. He Tian closed his eyes, face pinched in pain that had nothing to do with his body.

Zhengxi wrapped his arms around him. He held him until the tight ropes of his muscles eased against him, until he felt his breath heave out of him in a miserable shudder and He Tian’s face press into his neck like he hadn’t felt that connection in years rather than hours. Zhengxi held the back of his head, weakly stroking his hair with bruised fingers. “It’s okay,” Zhengxi said firmly. “We’re all tired and hurt. We just need to get home. I need you to get us home.” He felt He Tian spasm against him, like a sob held tight in his chest. It was like Zhengxi could hear his thoughts—maybe because he could imagine exactly what he would have felt if their roles had been reversed. Zhengxi hugged him tighter. “We’re alive. And this isn’t on you. None of it is. Come home with us and we’ll deal with this.”

When He Tian dragged in breaths and finally nodding against his neck, Zhengxi stepped back. He Tian grabbed the car door before he could reach for it again. Zhengxi climbed in, scooting into the middle beside Jian Yi, and sighed relief when He Tian got in. A driver took them home and none of them spoke.

Zhengxi fell asleep, leaning against He Tian’s side, with Jian Yi on his other. He woke up again, being carried down the hall of their apartment. He jerked in surprise and He Tian held him tighter, shushing him gently. “You can sleep. The doctors said you lost a lot of blood. You need to sleep, Xi.” After a pause he added. “I’ll be here when you wake up.” The bedroom was dark and he laid him out on the covers. As soon as he inhaled all the familiar scents of his own bed he started to cry. He Tian thumbed away his tears, whispering apologies and Zhengxi shook his head weakly, trying again to tell him that it wasn’t his fault.

He Tian was on top of him, on all fours so he didn’t put any weight on him, but her was there and surrounding him in the dark. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t there. That I left you and Mo with…” he choked on the whispered words.

Zhengxi wished he could open his eyes, his lids dragged down by exhaustion, but he managed to shake his head. “Stop. Please,” he begged and cringed because it wasn’t the first time he’d begged in the last twelve hours. He’d begged more than he had in his whole life last night. He’d begged for San to stop hitting Mo. And he’d begged San to get off of Mo. And he’d begged San to take him instead.

 

* * *

 

 

He Tian felt cold, elbows and knees on the bed caging Xi in under him. His hands stroked the tears off Zhengxi’s face. He’d finally fallen asleep in the car and it seemed as soon as his body hit his bed, he’d let go of all that perfectly stony exterior—the one that had been carrying all of them through the long process of police and hospital. His voice broke around a plea that hurt He Tian to hear, the sound of it driving a spike in his heart. And then he started babbling about having begged San to stop. He Tian remembered how San had pulled at Xi’s hair.

“Xi…” He Tian whispered. “Xi, what happened?”

Zhengxi was sliding into dreams now, cringing back from his words. “Please… Please…”

He Tian winced. “Xi, it’s me—”

“Take me,” Zhengxi whisper-sobbed. “I’ll do anything you want. You want me to beg and cry, I’ll do it. You want me to say I want it, to beg for more, I’ll do it.”

He Tian almost jerked back, like the words struck him. “Xi…” Tears spilled over his lashes. “Xi, did San touch you? Did he—”

Zhengxi cringed and rolled onto his side, curling up and covering his ear and cheek with one bandaged hand.

He Tian stroked his hair gently. “Okay. I’m sorry. Forget it. You’re at home and you’re safe.” He rubbed his back until he’d fallen into a solid sleep, uncurling a little. His shirt had ridden up a little and He Tian found himself studying that stretch of skin and its bruises like a puzzle. He looked for the bruising print of fingers but saw only where knuckles had left their mark. He swallowed hard, hand shaking when he gently ran his hand over Zhengxi’s skin, fingertips dipping into the waistband of his sweats to start pushing them down his ass. His heart hammered in his throat and eyes burned with tears, but he had to know.

Zhengxi shuddered in his sleep, head shaking a little, and breath stuttering in his throat. One of his bandaged hands grabbed at He Tian’s wrist, weak and unable to stop him if he pressed on. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. He gently withdrew his hand, tugging Xi’s shirt back down and kissing his temple. “I’m sorry. Sleep, Xi. I’ll be here when you wake up. I promise.”

He climbed off the bed and laid a blanket over the blond. He backed out of the room, afraid to look away from Zhengxi and miss a sign of distress. He waited another few minutes in the doorway, watching him sleep. He could hear the shower running and someone inside it in the bathroom.

He left Zhengxi’s door half open and padded down the hall to his own room, where he found Mo waiting.

The redhead had tossed out his hospital gown shirt, still wearing the blood-stained joggers. The zip ties around his ankles had scraped up his skin and the cuts had been disinfected and bandaged, matching his wrists—but nothing compared to what Zhengxi had managed to do to his. The doctor had let He Tian know that most of Mo’s injuries were only welts and bruises, the worst of which was the one around his throat. He had been advised to not try to talk for a few days.

 “Mo,” He wanted to ask him what had happened—to have his boyfriend tell him himself because he would hear the truth in it if he did.

Mo watched him, waiting like he would ask. He held himself like they were going to fight, his fingers curled halfway into fists, his shoulders squared, and his head ducked a little.

He Tian took a step closer and reached out slowly, slow enough that Mo had time to wince back or swat his hand away or even cringe long before his hand brushed gently over a bruise along his jaw. He had heard Zhengxi’s story plenty of times tonight. “San beat you?”’

Mo nodded once, tensely.

His fingers trailed down, ghosting over the thick bruise around Mo’s neck. “And he strangled you?”

Another nod.

“And Xi killed him?”

Mo winced but nodded again, those red eyes looking back at him, full of anger and pain.

He Tian felt sick. “But that’s not the whole story?”

Mo just stared at him, as though willing him to know the truth and not know it at the same time.

He decided he had to know—that there was no way around it. He remembered the horrible words Zhengxi had spoken in his sleep—offering himself up in place of Mo. Offering to do anything. He reached out slowly, fingertips touching Mo’s abdomen and curling slowly into the hem of his pants. His skin jumped, against all the will of his expression and muscles—his skin still betrayed his fear. “Was it you or Xi?” he whispered between them, studying his face carefully.

Mo winced, nose wrinkling in a tired snarl. “Xi offered,” he whispered, voice breathy and ragged, throat full of pain for the effort of making sounds. “Xi tried to stop him. But he said someone told him to…” He looked away, “Told him to fuck me. He beat me and then he put his belt around my neck and got behind me. He was touching himself…” Mo paused, swallowing hard and wincing at the pain of talking and the agony of remembering. He hadn’t told his story to anyone. He hadn’t said a word since He Tian found them. “I couldn’t breathe with the belt around my neck… He rubbed against me and I couldn’t even say anything—couldn’t even yell. And then he was on the floor and Xi was on top of him.” His eyes glazed, tears against his lashes and gaze dropping to the floor. “You saw what happened to his hands… He ripped up his wrists and saved me…”

His voice had grown quieter and quieter and He Tian had subconsciously leaned closer. He shouldn’t have been talking, it wasn’t good for his throat, but he had to say it and He Tian had to know. His relief was staggering, his arms curling around Mo and hugging him to his chest. Zhengxi had saved Mo. The night had been their worst but not as bad as his fears had led him to imagine. He’d never be able to repay Zhengxi for what he’d offered or what he’d done—especially not after leaving him behind.

Mo hugged him, leaning into his body and sighing.

Outside their door, they heard Jian Yi leaving the bathroom and going to bed.

He Tian stroked Mo’s back gently. “Bed first or shower?”

Mo stayed in his hug a while longer, undecided before leading He Tian to the bathroom to shower, both taking account of each other’s bruises before crawling into bed and sleeping through the day.


	16. Forgiveness

Mo woke in the dark. It wasn’t a nightmare that woke him, but what had happened the night before was all still fresh in his head as soon as he did. He laid there, listening to He Tian sleep, wondering if Xi was sleeping soundly, worrying that Jian Yi might still be angry at He Tian for saving him over the rest of them and remembering the feel of that belt around his neck.

Without thinking, he reached up his own naked chest, sore all over, and touched his fingers to his neck. He winced, teeth clicking, shivers running down his spine. His neck had always been sensitive. He’d liked when his partners grabbed it during sex. Was that ruined now? He gently put his own hand to his own neck and cringed when he remembered the belt, the feeling of helplessness and that man rubbing himself against him.

He mouthed the word “fuck” because talking hurt. He rolled onto his back, kicking he covers off and still holding on to his own neck. He’d curled his hand around his throat now, not squeezing but not letting go despite the panic sweat breaking out over his skin. He wasn’t going to let go. He wasn’t going to lose this part of himself. Fuck no.

He slid his free hand down his abdomen, into the waistband of his own sweatpants. He closed his eyes, breath hitching and teeth gnashing. No. He wasn’t going to give up. If he gave up now, he might never get himself back—might never get over it. He stroked himself, trying not to imagine anyone else doing it. It was just him. He was safe. It was his hand on his neck—his hand on his sex. It was okay. But no matter how much he told himself that, no matter how he rubbed himself, he couldn’t get hard—couldn’t shake the panic fluttering in his chest and the memory of that other man groping him, ready to use him.

“Fuck,” he rasped.

“Mo?”

He froze at the sound of He Tian’s voice, eyes opening. He felt his boyfriend’s eyes on him, no doubt taking in the curious sight of him with his hand around his own bruised neck and the other shoved in his pants. Did he look like a total perv? Like he got off on what had happened to them? Or just completely fucking insane?

His muscles jumped at He Tian’s hand sliding over his arm, down, down, down to the hem of his pants.

“He-He Tian…” Mo tried to explain, still shaking.

He Tian’s hand followed his wrist and then his hand and Mo’s breath caught again when those fingers touched his barely stiff sex. He felt He Tian go still again, surprised that he wasn’t hard but was still trying to get off—maybe putting all the pieces of this disturbing puzzle together. He Tian’s hand moved, rubbing Mo’s hand against his own sex slowly. “You want to get off, MoMo?” He Tian whispered, voice husky and sexy in the dark and sending familiar tremors through Mo.

“Yes,” he ground out, relieved to feel the first tendrils of excitement stir in his body despite his hand still around his neck, touching those dark bruises. And then a jab of panic. “But not… I can’t… Not yet,” his throat rasped the words in a rush to explain. His whole body was sore and right now he just wanted to get off—to know that he still could—to feel like himself.

He Tian hummed to shush him, sliding down his body and pulling Mo’s sweatpants down his hips to the middle of his thighs.

Mo groaned, his cock jumping to life just like that, body squirming at the feel of He Tian’s breath. He cupped himself, like he was suddenly modest. “You don’t have to…”

He Tian pulled his hand away gently and held on to it. Mo arched when that mouth touched him, licking and sucking gently from base to tip.

“Fuck!” Mo groaned, his voice hoarse. His fingers flexed against his own neck and for a second the memories of the belt and the violence tried to creep in, but He Tian moaned against his sex and Mo was right here, right now.

He Tian blew him, Mo’s hips jerking up into shallow thrusts when he got close, crashing into his orgasm so fast he barely had time to garble out a warning. He Tian didn’t pull back though, sucking him deep against the back of his throat and swallowing.

Mo moaned, deep in his chest, holding his own neck tight when he came, body arching and twisting under He Tian’s hold. He gasped after he was spent, panting for air like he hadn’t breathed in hours, filling his lung and his soul. He gave his own neck one last, loving squeeze. Still his. Still himself.

He Tian stroked his hips gently, dropping lazy kisses against his abdomen. “Mo?” he breathed his name against his skin, full of uncertainty.

Mo nodded to himself, reaching down to stroke He Tian’s hair. “Good. I’m good. Thank you.”

He Tian crawled up to his side, careful of all his welts and bruises even in the dark. “Are we good?” he asked carefully.

Mo looked at him, surprised, going over the mess of the last twenty-four hours to figure out what he meant. Of everything that had happened, what could have been wrong between himself and He Tian? Mo wrapped his arms around him, hugging him despite all the aching in his muscles. “We’re always good.”

“I picked Ji,” He Tian whispered his shame.

Mo held him tighter, remembering that moment and the pain on his face when he was forced to choose one of them to take with him—leaving the other two behind. “You made the right choice. You know you did, and I know you did.”

He Tian winced against him. “Ji was so furious. I left you and Xi behind and after what happened… How is he going to forgive me?”

Mo remembered Xi screaming, begging for San to take him instead, ripping his arms free and breaking his knuckles on the face of a monster. “There’s nothing to forgive,” Mo said firmly. “You did nothing wrong. He’ll see that.” He Tian didn’t argue but Mo knew he didn’t believe him either.

 

* * *

 

 

Jian Yi woke sometime the next day, the apartment still quiet but daylight filtering through the ides of the drawn curtains in their room. He sat up and watched Xixi sleep, studying the bruises on his face and the side of his mouth and the awkward way his arms lay. It wasn’t how he usually slept. It was uncomfortable. His Xi was so uncomfortable he was even sleeping wrong. His brow was creased and his lip curled down on one side like he was permanently distressed—even in his dreams.

He kept whispering terrible things too. Promising to do anything. Begging. Jian Yi touched his hair gently. He bent over him, kissing his temple and whispered, “You’re safe. You’re home.”

He whispered it again and again until Xi relaxed a little more. Until he stopped begging phantoms in his nightmares. For a second Xi held his breath and Jian Yi almost panicked and then he woke all at once, sitting up and looking around in alarm. He blinked back nightmares, one arm already pressing Jian Yi behind him as he looked for danger in the shadows.

“We’re home,” Jian Yi reminded gently, kissing his hair. “Go back to sleep.”

Zhengxi sighed and collapsed back down, murmuring a curse and closing his eyes.

“Xi?”

“Hm?”

“Did he rape you?” Jian Yi barely whispered, choking out the question that haunted him.

Zhengxi’s eyes opened again, staring at the ceiling before cutting to the side to look up at Jian Yi. “No.”

Jian Yi almost cried, exhaling hard and so intensely grateful. “Mo?” he almost croaked it.

“No,” he said, shaking his head once. “No, Ji.”

Jian Yi did cry then, hand flying to his eyes to try to press back all that rising guilt and fear. He hadn’t been able to sleep without thinking about how Mo had reached out for him and asked him to leave with him—to run down the mountain and get help—to not go back to the cabin. He’d only gone back because those guys had grabbed Jian Yi. Mo had only gone back because he couldn’t leave Jian Yi and it had led him to more danger. He had tried so hard not to think about what happened to Mo because of it. Mo would hate him forever—not only had he not gone with him, not taken his hand, and brought him back to that cabin and that horrible man, but He Tian had picked him instead of Mo. He had been so angry at He Tian until he finally laid down at night to sleep and realized he was angry with himself. He was the traitor, not He Tian.

Zhengxi’s arms wrapped around him, bandaged hands clumsily pulling him to lay against his chest. Jian Yi cried into his shirt until he could finally breathe again, shaking each gasp out. He hated himself even more for all of Zhengxi’s soft words, shushing him and reassuring him. They fell asleep again like that, bodies so worn out that sleep was a force all its own, dragging them down deep while time ticked by.

Jian Yi didn’t wake again until hours later, forgetting his ribs and started to stretch before the pain stole the breath from him, reminding him that life was fucked up right now.

He got out of bed slowly and made his way to the bathroom. His whole body shook with exhaustion and emptiness. He had never been this thirsty in his life. He padded down the hallway to the kitchen. It was daylight outside. What time was it? What day was it?

He stopped just in the kitchen. Mo stood in the glow of the refrigerator, holding a bottle of water. They stared at each other. Jian Yi thought about the last time they really spoke—in the dark in the woods. “I should have listened to you.”

Mo closed the refrigerator slowly, turning to face him fully. His joggers hung on his hips, his chest naked. With that many welts, it probably hurt to wear even a light shirt. “It could have turned out just as bad. It could have gone worse.” His voice was like gravel in his throat.

Jian Yi cringed, feeling tears stinging his eyes again.

The redhead reached out toward him with his free hand and Jian Yi exhaled, rushing forward to take it this time. Mo laughed a little, like nothing had changed between them. He tugged him close and turned them both until Jian Yi was leaning back against the refrigerator. He handed him the water and Jian Yi took it, almost hiccupping in relief when he uncapped it. Mo lifted his shirt and Jian Yi lifted his arms as much as he could to let him poke around, getting a first look at his bruised chest and cracked ribs. He still had the rounded shape of the steering wheel printed in his skin. He drank and cringed at each gulp sending vibrations of pain through his chest.

Mo let his shirt fall back down and Jian Yi handed him back the water, half-empty now. But Mo didn’t back up, their hips still almost touching, and he was grateful for the nearness and the almost normalcy despite everything that had gone wrong. He shivered, swallowing hard. “Everything that happened… It should have been me, right?” Jian Yi whispered the words of his guilt. “He Tian should have picked you and—”

Mo grabbed his hand again, pressing a thumb into his palm to quiet him. Jian Yi stared back at those serious red eyes. “He picked right,” he said and there was no room to argue. “Who would you have picked?” he asked the question that had no answer.

Jian Yi tried to jerk back from it, but he was already up against the refrigerator. He gawked because he couldn’t answer it. Because it wasn’t a fair question. Because there were variables to consider and all of their relationships and hearts at stake.

“It’ll haunt him, Ji. He had to pick. Don’t make that harder.” It was almost a plea now and Jian Yi shook his head quickly because he couldn’t bear to have Mo begging him for anything right now.

It was an impossible question—a cruel choice. Jian Yi tried to imagine it. If San had asked him to pick one to save and two to leave behind, who would it be? How would the others feel? Would they hate him for it? Would they think he loved them less? Or that they were expendable?

Jian Yi was surprised when Mo leaned in and kissed him, softly on the lips, lingering just for a second or two before stepping back. He waved a hand at Jian Yi to get out of the way. “I’m foraging.”

Jian Yi smiled and rubbed the tears from his eyes. He lingered long enough for Mo to hang him more water bottles and talk about ordering pizzas.

Mo dialed and Jian Yi did the talking. Already he was feeling worn out again. He left Mo to wait for the pizzas and sunk back down the hall. He paused at his own door to look in on Xi still sleeping, brow creased again and breath hitching now and then. He still wasn’t sleeping well.

Jian Yi looked down the hall to Mo’s open bedroom door and finally took those last steps. He walked into the room. He Tian was sitting at the foot of the bed, sleepily rubbing the back of his neck. He looked up, expecting to see Mo and surprised to see Jian Yi there. He stood immediately, suddenly very awake and expecting to hear something had happened—maybe someone had fainted or an injury was worse than they expected? He had circles under his eyes despite all their hibernating today. Xi wasn’t the only one not sleeping well, he guessed.

Jian Yi stood there, not sure what to do or how to fix the little rift between them that could have so easily turned into a cavern. He sighed, the breath tight thanks to his ribs, and looked away. “I can’t pick up Xi with my ribs like this…”

He Tian took a step closer, head tipping down and to the side curiously—still a little worried. “Why do you need to pick him up? Where—”

“Can you bring him in here?” His voice had gotten quieter. Why was this so hard? “Your bed is bigger than ours…”

He Tian’s expression softened, tears suddenly in his eyes and Jian Yi couldn’t believe he’d almost withheld this affection from him. For what? His own guilt? His own pain? He leaned forward, touching his forehead to He Tian’s chest and breathing him in. He Tian sighed, hand cupping the back of Jian Yi’s head and mouth kissing the top. “I was wrong,” Jian Yi whispered against his chest. “You did what you had to.”

He Tian exhaled so hard, it sounded like he’d been holding his breath for days.

Jian Yi leaned back to look up at him, one hand tangled in his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin through it. “Can we sleep in here?”

He Tian looked like he might laugh at him, kissing his forehead once before nodding. “Get in. I’ll get Zhengxi.”

Jian Yi almost reminded him to be careful with Xi, but then he remembered who he was talking to and crawled into bed, settling against the pillows after leaving the water bottles on the nightstand. He was sure his hunger would wake him up again when the pizzas got here.


	17. Rest

He Tian woke sometime that afternoon. Time had lost meaning the last couple days. All they did was sleep and eat. When he woke this time, he was sure he’d been having a bad dream. He couldn’t remember anything about it, but his shirt was sweat soaked and he could hear himself breathing, gasping, letting out little strained wheezes of pain.

He jerked upright in bed when he realized it wasn’t him. That sound wasn’t him. His hands slid across the bed in the dark to his right until they hit a sweat soaked shirt and Zhengxi’s side. Why the fuck was he breathing like that?

“He Tian?” Jian Yi muttered on his other side, either waking because of the movement or because of that wheezing sound.

He ignored the way Zhengxi’s whole body jumped when his arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer and onto his back. “Turn the light on,” he ordered any of them, blindly sliding his hands up Zhengxi’s chest, his breathing labored, and his shirt soaked through. His skin was hot, like he’d been soaked in a bath too long, and his pulse fluttered like wings in his throat. He tried to curl away from He Tian but he caught his shoulder, keeping him on his back.

The lights came on and He Tian only vaguely registered that it had been Mo to jump up and flick the switch.

“Xixi?” Jian Yi asked, right beside He Tian. “Why is he so warm?”’

He Tian turned Zhengxi’s face toward himself, leaning over to try to get a look at him, surprised when Xi’s eyes were half open. But he wasn’t really looking back at him, his eyes glassy and unfocused. His mouth moved like he was trying to talk but all he could make was that wheezing sound.

“Zhengxi?” Jian Yi tried again, voice louder, but he didn’t respond.

“He has a fever. He might have an infection,” He Tian said, no idea if that was it or not. “Fuck.” He grabbed the nearest blanket and pulled it over, wrapping Zhengxi in it.

“He’s warm!” Jian Yi snapped, trying to grab at it.

“He’s still shaking!” He Tian snapped back, picking up the bundled Zhengxi. “Get the fucking door.”

“Where are you going?” Jian Yi stuck to his side, half arguing and half nodding the whole way.

“Back to the hospital,” He Tian answered.

Mo opened the door, grabbed the car keys and at least one of their phones. He shoved them into He Tian’s pockets while he was in the hallway, sliding into his shoes.

“Stay here, I’ll call when we get there,” He Tian said to Jian Yi, trying to sound softer now. The blond was shaking his head, tears in his confused eyes. But he was half-naked and covered in bruises himself.

 

* * *

 

The door closed behind them. Mo stood there beside Jian Yi in the silence until Jian Yi let out a loud, “Fuck!” and stormed back to the room as well as anyone with broken ribs could storm, grabbing his phone and hanging on to it, pacing and looking at it every half minute as though He Tian could already be there and willfully not calling.

Mo watched him pace, sitting back down on the bed. “It’s probably just a fever,” he tried.

Jian Yi turned to him like he was going to snap, took one look at him with his bruise collar and belt welts and then winced and turned away, back to pacing. It seemed, as long as Mo looked this fucked up, he wasn’t going to get snapped at by anyone. He might have enjoyed this sort of free pass if everything wasn’t shit right now.

“He’ll be okay,” Mo rasped, starting to get used to his strained voice and that dry throb of pain in his throat when he spoke. It wouldn’t last forever, like the rest of this nightmare it would fade eventually.

Jian Yi tried to nod, tried to hear reason, but he couldn’t stop pacing either.

After ten minutes it got slower, his body too weak for this much anxiety. The bruises on his pale chest looked big and dark in the shadowy room. Mo was relieved Jian Yi hadn’t pulled back the thick curtains in the room though. He wasn’t sure his head could handle daylight.

After twenty minutes the phone rang and Jian Yi almost dropped it. He Tian called to say they were at the hospital and he had one of his family doctor’s taking a look at Zhengxi.

Eventually they determined it was a fever and possible infection. Zhengxi was lucid enough to demand to go home. His ripped-up wrists were cleansed again and rewrapped and He Tian was given a prescription for strong antibiotics and something to reduce the fever.

But when he came home with Zhengxi an hour later, Xi was still warm and unable to fully wake up. The doctor said he would be like that for a while, He Tian told them. He’d be in and out of sleep but he’d get better and the doctor would pay house calls. Mo didn’t imagine that was normal but He Tian had family ties and today wasn’t the day to decline those favors.

They put Zhengxi back to bed and for a while Jian Yi hovered, watching him sleep before finally passing out again himself. Mo tried to remind himself that this was like the bruises and the rasp in his voice—this whole mood was something that would pass. They all just needed to rest and heal.

 

* * *

 

It had seemed so simply when he was falling asleep again, but impossibly far away when he woke the next morning, the memories of that night so vivid that for a second he had to blink around their room just to be sure where he was.

Mo looked around. Jian Yi and He Tian were missing but Zhengxi was there, on his back and mumbling in his sleep. He remembered the fever then and slid closer, feeling the other man’s face. He wasn’t as hot as he had been yesterday but he was still pretty out of it. His body gave a little jerk at Mo’s touch, mouth opening and then straining thin breaths. It wasn’t a wheeze, he realized, it was a cry.

Mo wrapped his arms around him, pulling him closer until his back was to his chest, Mo’s arms wrapped around him from behind as he leaned against the headboard. “Xi, can you hear me?” he whispered against his ear.

Zhengxi jerked a little, still crying, still muttering whispers so thin they had been easily missed before.

Mo held him tight and leaned over his shoulder to put his ear close to his mouth, listening, holding his breath to make out those words. Once he caught one or two he could easily remember the rest. They were printed in his own mind forever. He would never forget them. Zhengxi was repeating all his pleas to the man in the cabin, offering himself in Mo’s place, offering to do anything. But his sounds tapered into those strangled, wheezing sounds, like sobs and screams deep in his chest.

“No,” Mo shook his head, cheek against Zhengxi’s. “You saved me. Do you hear me? You saved me and it was over,” he tried to sound firm but his voice rasped in his throat, breathy and somehow not strong enough to get through.

 

* * *

 

He Tian had gotten up early and gone out to get groceries. He didn’t need to rest the way the others did, mostly he just laid there consoled by listening to them breathe and knowing they were all okay. Okay was a vague word at the moment, meaning alive and only mildly traumatized. His brother had been waiting for him outside the apartment when he got back, not going in—not even knocking. He knew he was checking on him, and was actually kind of grateful for once. But he had no answers for who was behind the assault, other than the group of idiots that attacked them—and they were all very dead and unable to tell them anything more.

When they parted ways and He Tian went into his apartment, he was surprised to smell coffee and find Jian Yi in the kitchen. Whatever pain and anger had been between them before had vanished the other night when Jian Yi forgave him—no traces left. He started to groaned in that exaggerated way he always did when he was hungry and someone brought food, but it choked off with a wince, one hand hovering over the side with his broken ribs. For a long minute he didn’t breathe and then he exhaled a long “fuuuuuck,” in a low whine.

He Tian dumped the groceries on the counter and came closer, relieved that Jian Yi at least sounded like himself. He lifted his shirt to look at his bruised chest again, like it might have changed since he last saw it eight hours ago. “You know, I think I can make out the car logo in this bruise…” he joked.

Jian Yi flashed a smile. “Shut up. If I laugh that’ll hurt too.”

He Tian let his shirt go and nodded. “I bought pork buns. They’re still hot.”

Jian Yi hummed rather than hooted, grabbing at the plastic bags and pretending to help unpack them until he found the buns.

“You know, I don’t think I told you how cool your car crashing move was. I mean, you might have killed us, but I wouldn’t have minded dying with you.” He Tian said, putting juice and chicken in the fridge. He paused, wondering if that was too romantic. Not for the first time wondering if things might have changed between them.

But Jian Yi was smiling, tenderly biting at the unwrapped, soft bun in his hand. He leaned against the counter. “Thanks for getting Xixi to the doctor. I’m not sure I could have done that right now.” His words tapered off when he admitted he wasn’t up to picking up his boyfriend and running off to the doctor—like anyone would expect him to be.

He Tian shrugged, shoving more groceries into the fridge. “That’s not something you have to thank me for.”

“I know, but still…” Jian Yi said around a mouthful of bun.

He Tian closed the refrigerator and for a minute just watched the other man eat.

Finally Jian Yi raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Just wondering how long before your ribs are healed and I can fuck you again.”

Jian Yi coughed on his bun, got out half a laugh and then winced and clutched his side. “Fuck! You asshole! I said no jokes!”

He Tian smiled, apologizing and taking a step closer to kiss his forehead. “Sorry, but it wasn’t a joke.” He stepped away. “I’ll go see if Mo wants food.”

Jian Yi whined a swear at him and probably would have thrown the rest of his pork bun if he wasn’t so hungry.

 

* * *

 

He Tian walked into the bedroom and stopped short, for half a second frozen by the sight of Mo and Zhengxi on the bed. Zhengxi was barely awake, still fevered, and Mo was sitting behind him—Xi’s back to Mo’s chest. None of that was alarming. It was the arm Mo had hooked around Zhengxi’s neck and the way he pulled until Xi’s mouth opened, eyes widening a little and body lulling.

He Tian was on the bed in a flash, straddling Xi’s thighs to pull Mo’s arm away, lifting and pinning it to the wall behind him. Zhengxi shuddered, still barely conscious, eyes half-lidded and far away. He Tian touched his cheek, still hot, and then his gaze slid up to Mo—those red eyes teary and shocked like he’d been the one that walked in on this and not the other way around. “Why?” He Tian ground out in a whisper, a thousand possibilities streaming across his mind. Had Mo gone insane? Was he more fucked up by what happened than he’d let on? Had they been lying about what happened? Did he blame Xi? “Why?” he repeated, desperate.

Mo stared up at him, Zhengxi still against his chest, between them. “He’s having nightmares and I can’t wake him up,” he said so quietly that He Tian strained to hear, not believing himself even when he did. It wasn’t enough of a reason. “His nightmare… He’s remembering it but I don’t think he saves me in the dream…” he continued. He Tian shook his head, still not understanding why that would lead to this. Mo swallowed hard. “If he feels someone choking him… The dream changes… If he thinks it’s him then it’s not me,” he explained, voice getting quieter and quieter.

He Tian felt sick. “You think his nightmare changes? That instead of you being attacked it’s him and that that’s better?”

Mo’s face twisted angrily, the way it had when they were kids and he felt wrong but still like he’d done the only thing he could. “He stops crying!”

He Tian looked down at Zhengxi between them, asleep again. It made sense in some way—to him anyway. He would rather have nightmares about himself being harmed than about seeing it happen to someone he loved and not be able to stop it.

“I wasn’t doing it hard. He could breathe,” Mo continued, crying, his arm still pinned overhead by He Tian.

He Tian cringed at that raspy voice. It still hurt Mo to talk. It probably would for weeks. He was shaking too. He Tian nodded slowly, letting go of his wrist but scooping Zhengxi up before Mo could even think to put that arm back around his neck, whether he would or not. He Tian didn’t want to have to stop him again, didn’t want to see it again. He gently put Xi down on the bed beside them and scooted closer to Mo, holding either side of his face to keep him looking at him. “You can’t do that,” he said very clearly. “You can’t do anything like that unless he tells you to. You understand?”

Mo was crying, trying to look away, but He Tian wouldn’t let him. “He was crying and it’s because he’s thinking about me and—”

“You can’t,” He Tian said again. “I understand why you did. I understand what you were thinking. I know you care about him. But you can’t do that.”

Mo glared through his tears like he might be defiant but nodded once.

He Tian nodded too.

Zhengxi jerked in his hazy sleep, whining and mumbling again.

Mo winced and looked at him.

He Tian moved aside, sitting in the middle of the bed rather than straddling his boyfriend’s hips. “Go eat. I brought food and Jian Yi’s making coffee.”

Mo nodded slowly, still watching Zhengxi, but didn’t get up.

He Tian touched his arm, between welts. He had mapped his skin out during their long naps. “His fever will break soon and he’ll stop having nightmares. He won’t even remember them. I’ll stay.”

Mo hesitated another second, cringing at a string of Zhengxi’s pleas. It couldn’t be easy for him to hear them again and again either—to remember the first time over and over. Tearing his gaze away, Mo got out of bed and left the room.

He Tian sighed, the air a little lighter. He scooted back, sitting against the headboard, and pulled Zhengxi carefully up into his lap. Zhengxi’s eyes opened, only halfway, and for a moment He Tian thought he was really seeing him—and then they hazed over again and his face pinched in pain and he begged to trade places—to save their redhead. He Tian hugged him, not caring how hot or sweaty he was, put his face close to his ear and told him again and again that they were safe. That they were home. That he was right here waiting for him to wake up. He didn’t stop saying it, not even when Zhengxi stopped rambling and crying. He’d say it until he lost his voice if he had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so we're still in a heavy hurt/comfort phase of this story! Thanks for reading to everyone still with me! I have more plans!!!


	18. Wake Up

Zhengxi woke up.

He had been in and out of fever sleeping for a couple days. Barely managing to get himself up to eat and go to the bathroom. Everything had been hazy, half-confused and so damn exhausted. So when he woke up that morning, it felt like the first time. He sat up in bed and looked around, stomach empty but head finally clear. He looked down at his hands, wrapped in gauze, and remembered how he’d torn his wrists getting out of zipties and then broken his knuckles on that stranger’s face. Were they still strangers? No. He had killed San. They couldn’t be strangers now.

He looked at the bed and the two others asleep in it. He Tian and Jian Yi. Battered but not broken. Beautiful as ever. His heart tightened in his chest in a flash of panic when he realized the redhead wasn’t there. He threw back the covers and slid out of bed. Sanity told him not to panic, because he knew Mo was okay—he had made sure he was okay. But he didn’t breathe right until he walked down the hall and found the other man curled into the corner of the couch, watching sports with the sound muted.

Mo looked up at Zhengxi, surprise softening his features. He was about to stand but Zhengxi shook his head and came closer. As soon as he sat down, Mo was turning toward him, touching his forehead to take his temperature and looking relieved. “How are you feeling? Hungry?” the redhead rasped.

Zhengxi shook his head, even though he felt like he hadn’t eaten in days. “Did you tell them?” his own voice was rough. He hadn’t realized his throat was sore until then.

Mo didn’t even look confused. His shoulders just sagged. “We don’t know for sure…”

Zhengxi nodded once like that was an answer. “Call him.” He looked at the phone on the coffee table. He’d pick it up himself if he thought he could.

Mo sulked and didn’t pick it up. “And then what?”

“I told you I’d make this stop.”

“You did. It’s over,” Mo said so quickly that Zhengxi almost let himself believe it.

There were tears in Mo’s eyes and it made Xi’s heart hurt. He reached up, fingertips ghosting along his cheek, unable to cradle his face with all those bandages and fucked up bones. “Do you trust me?” he whispered, forehead to forehead.

Those red eyes looked back at him, so close. “Of course.”

“Why?”

“What?” Mo swallowed hard, reaching up to cup one side of Xi’s face when he couldn’t. Like one of them had to.

“Why do you trust me?”

Mo shuddered out a breath. “Because I know you. Because you do what you say you’re going to do. You don’t lie to me.”

Zhengxi leaned his face into Mo’s hand, nodding. “I told _him_ what I would do.” He looked at his redhead again. “I called you Red. And I think he used to too.”

Mo chewed his lip and he could see him trying to navigate a way out of this—around something dangerous that just couldn’t be avoided. “A lot of people have,” he said, but it sounded weak.

“Call him and find out.” Zhengxi pressed gently. “Please.”

Mo hesitated and then picked up the phone, holding it in both hands and staring at it.

“We all could have died that night. He Tian thinks it happened because of his family and their money. Jian Yi will always feel guilty that he was saved and we were left. That fucker put a belt around your neck and was going to—” Zhengxi bit back his words, lip curling as he struggled to keep his voice low. “He doesn’t get to walk away, Momo. No one gets to walk away. I won’t be able to sleep, to go back to our life, until it’s done. Please,” he begged.

Mo’s whole body cringed, eyes shooting back up to meet his. “Stop. Don’t ever beg me for anything, Xi. Please.” They stared at each other for a long minute, and then Mo dialed and held the phone up to his ear.

Zhengxi leaned forward, forehead to forehead again so that he could hear when She Li answered, so damn smug.

“It’s kind of early for a booty call, Red,” She Li said on the other line.

Zhengxi closed his eyes.

“Did you have to be so fucking obvious?” Mo ground out, tears in his eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” She Li was smiling around his words. “Tell me, do those rich boys still want your ass now that it’s been used and abused by some nobody thug? How’s He Tian doing?”

“Shut up,” Mo snapped, holding the phone so tight that his hand shook. “You ruined everything.”

“So, what are you going to do? Tell them it was all because of you? I heard Jian Yi got into a car accident and Zhengxi was all kinds of fucked up… _You_ ruined their lives, Red. Not me.”

Mo shook.

Zhengxi curled his arms around him, holding him while they both listened.

“Stay the hell away from us and I won’t tell anyone what you did. But if I ever see you again… Just stay away,” Mo ground the words out and then hung up, throwing his phone away from himself and onto the floor.

Zhengxi held him for a while, promising everything would be okay—not unlike how he’d promised after he killed San in that cabin.

“I have to tell He Tian. He can’t think this was because of him when—” Mo said against Xi’s chest.

He nodded, grateful Mo hadn’t wanted to hide it like he’d said on the phone. He’d known that was all bullshit—just the stuff She Li would expect to hear. She Li thought Mo was weak, all alone even inside his relationships. But Mo wasn’t alone. And now She Li would never see what coming next until it was too late.

Zhengxi got up from the couch when Mo fell asleep, still so battered and bandaged and bruised. It was barely dawn. He went to his and Jian Yi’s room and dressed in clothes he wouldn’t mind throwing away. It wasn’t easy. He had to pull a layer of bandages off his hands just to be able to move them enough—the right still so swollen and broken it was useless. Fuck.

He stood in the hallway for a minute, thinking through his options. He needed to get this done. But he couldn’t do it alone.

Zhengxi went back down the hall, into He Tian and Mo’s room. Jian Yi slept soundly, sprawled out as usual. And He Tian slept beside him, one hand on the other man’s arm as though keeping track of him even when he was out.

He looked at He Tian’s phone on the bedside table and for a second considered just taking it and calling He Cheng. He didn’t have to drag He Tian into this. He just needed help getting it done. But that would be a betrayal of sorts and he couldn’t trust just anyone, not even He Tian’s brother. It would create more secrets, more pain, more mistakes. But was the alternative really better?

He studied He Tian’s sleeping face, gentled but still a little sinister, still just seconds from being awake and ready to protect everything he loved from everything else in the world. He could do this. Zhengxi touched his shoulder with his left hand—the least ruined of the two. Shaking it once. Those dark eyes opened, checking Jian Yi first before turning toward Zhengxi. He Tian sat up, surprised to see Zhengxi up and dressed.

Xi held up a hand to his mouth—it would have been just the one finger to his lips if he could properly bend the others. He backed out of the room and down the hall. He Tian followed fast, catching him there. He grabbed him gently, turning his back to the wall and touching his forehead, feeling his temperature and looking him over in the morning shadows. “Are you okay? What are you doing up?” he whispered.

Zhengxi waited until He Tian was done fussing and really met his gaze, saw the even focus behind his eyes and calmed down. His shoulders pressed back, like he was a soldier waiting for directions.

“I have to take care of something,” Zhengxi said quietly and then sighed and looked down at his hands between them, bandaged. He Tian frowned at them, noticing how the other man had peeled off layers of the gauze but not complaining about it just yet. “But I can’t like this…”

“Xi—”

“I need you to help me, or I need you to let me call your brother.”

He Tian’s mouth snapped shut, teeth clicking and lip curling into the smallest snarl, obviously not liking the idea of Zhengxi talk to He Cheng. He Tian had been careful to keep his worlds separated, to keep his family as far from his daily life as possible. His eyes darkened, glazing over the way they did when he was really angry. He Tian didn’t get explosive the way Mo or Jian Yi could get. He got still. And when he moved, it would be dangerous. “You know who was behind it?”

Zhengxi was glad his back was to the wall then, leaning against it to look up at the other man. “It wasn’t about you or your money. She Li had it done to fuck with him, to wreck him, or to wreck us.” He shrugged because the why of it didn’t really matter. Not anymore.

He Tian didn’t move, didn’t show any sign of having changed at all. “And you want to do what?”

“I made him a promise once, do you remember?”

He Tian looked at him thoughtfully and then smiled slowly. “I do.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to do anything like this if—”

He Tian kissed him, Zhengxi’s head thumping back against the wall and that tongue sliding into his mouth. He kissed him back, deep, hands twitching because he wanted to wrap one around the back of He Tian’s neck or maybe pull at his hair, but he couldn’t. But this was enough, this was more than enough to put all his nerves to rest and feel like someone else understood—knew what he needed, what he had to do.

He Tian left him long enough to get dressed, grab his phone and car keys, and then they both quietly put on their shoes and left the apartment.

 

* * *

 

They sat in the car, parked along the sidewalk down the block from She Li’s apartment building. They didn’t discuss the plan, but somehow He Tian felt like they both knew how this was going to go. “If we get caught, at any point, you say it was all me,” He Tian said, in the drivers seat of the car, his gaze fixed on the building.

Zhengxi huffed what sounded like the first note of a laugh. “Fuck you. We’ll go to prison together. It’ll be fun.” He said it all deadpan and He Tian couldn’t tell if he was joking.

“How do you know it’s him?” he asked only now. He believed Xi, so he hadn’t needed to ask earlier. But now they had time.

“It was a feeling, I guess. And he’s a fucking psycho obsessed with Mo…” Zhengxi had his attention fixed across the street too. It was so early, only delivery trucks were out making rounds and the handfuls of people with really early shifts. “I had Mo call him. He said he did it.”

He Tian nodded once. He had been relieved for a second that this hadn’t happened because of his family, but that second had been crushed by the idea of Mo feeling even an ounce of the guilt he had.

“I don’t think Mo even let himself think about it,” Xi added, voice quieter now, a little sterile.

He Tian understood the shift immediately, glancing sideways at the blond. “I’m not mad at him,” he said, wanting to be really clear about that. “I’ve never been mad at Mo. He would never hurt me or keep anything from me intentionally. Sometimes he just puts things away inside himself and forgets. Has to forget to keep moving. And he’s really good at keeping himself moving, surviving.” He had never talked to anyone about Mo before. It would have felt like a betrayal of trust to explain those inner workings to anyone but Zhengxi and Jian Yi. “I’m glad you didn’t bring him with you though,” He Tian continued and then smiled wickedly out the window when he saw the front door of that building swing open and She Li step out, gym back over his shoulder. He started the engine. “He could have done it—would have helped you—but She Li might say things… He’d try to leave another mark on him.”

Zhengxi nodded, but stared at She Li’s shape walking down the sidewalk away from them. It was a relief to be understood without having to try to explain. Xi tried hard to make conversation and make himself understood by the people he loved. It didn’t come naturally but he had wasted too many years not expressing himself to Jian Yi in the beginning to ever let it happen again. Still, it was hard sometimes, and He Tian made it so easy.

They followed She Li for a block and when he turned down an empty morning street, Zhengxi grabbed his door handle. “Come up alongside him,” he said darkly.

He Tian sped up and brought the car right along She Li’s right side. Zhengxi opened his door, slamming the other man hard from behind and knocking him to the ground. He Tian hit the breaks, pulled the parking gear, and jumped out. It hadn’t been hard to get She Li into the trunk. He Tian had hit him once across the face when he started to recover from the strike of the door, but then he was out again. They grabbed his bag too, tossing it in the backseat before driving away.

They went to a bridge on a side of town no one used much. It was still so perfectly early. They had their hoods up when they got out again and pulled the silver haired man from the trunk. She Li spit blood at the ground and tried to shove them off, but He Tian threw him up against the rails of the bridge. She Li looked at them both and then laughed. “What the fuck is your problem?” He tried for oblivious.

Zhengxi sighed, breath making icy clouds. The river below was fast and deep and so, so cold. “I told you if you didn’t leave him alone, I’d break your legs and throw you off a bridge,” Zhengxi reminded, voice deadpan.

She Li looked afraid for the first time, eyes widening and body shaking in the cold wind rolling off those icy waters. He pressed it back and tried to look fearless. “You don’t have that in you. Don’t bullshit me.”

Zhengxi didn’t smile or laugh or play games. He didn’t need to. This wasn’t about fun. He wasn’t a psycho. He was just a man who needed to be able to sleep. Who needed to know the people he loved were safe. “It turns out I do have it in me,” he said flatly, holding his hands up. “But it took a toll.”

She Li pressed out another smug laugh, mouth bloody.

He Tian reached into the backseat and came back with a baseball bat and the laugh stopped. He swung and one of She Li’s legs snapped. He screamed. The wind swallowed it up out here.

“Luckily, he has me,” He Tian said. “And I don’t think anyone is surprised that I have it in me to kill you…”

She Li screamed for help and He Tian swung again, cracking him across the face to shut him up and ensure he wouldn’t be surviving the icy waters by any miracle.

He dropped the bat and they both grabbed She Li up, lifting and pushing him over the rails.

When he hit the water, it sounded like he’d hit ground, a solid ugly thud, and then he was gone under the surface. They stood there for a minute, watching and waiting for that silver head to pop back up—for this to become complicated and sloppy. He didn’t. It wasn’t.

They dropped his bag in the river too and He Tian cleaned off the bat, spraying it down with something chemical stinking before tossing it too.

They got back into the car, cranked up the heater, and drove home.

He Tian said his brother would come take the car. He Tian had others—they were all owned by his family and none of them registered to him personally. He might not have joined in his family’s business, but they’d taught him how to handle a crisis.

He worried Zhengxi would freak out after it was done—after they’d committed a crime like they had, but he seemed honestly relaxed when they finally got back up to the apartment. In the entry, he helped Zhengxi out of his hoodie and his shoes. He was fading fast now that it was done, He Tian could see the energy draining out of him. He hadn’t thought it was a good idea for him to go anywhere, but he understood that this was something he had to do. Honestly, he was so relieved and blown away that Zhengxi had come to him with this—had trusted him to handle it and know what had to happen.

He Tian had been running on a frantic need to take care of them the last few days—remembering how he’d promised Zhengxi when they got out of the car that he’d do it, that he’d be here when he woke up. He hadn’t given himself time to breathe or think or regret—running from everything because he was afraid if it caught up to him, it would crush him—that nothing would ever be right and that the people he loved most had been hurt beyond repair. But when they came back to their apartment, it felt like coming home.

“I’m so hungry but I’m so fuckin tired,” Xi muttered, more to himself than He Tian.

He Tian nudged him toward the hall. “Go back to sleep. I’ll make food and wake you when it’s ready.”

Zhengxi grunted in agreement but stopped just in the mouth of the long hallway. He looked back at him and He Tian froze, waiting. “Thanks,” he said, quiet but so earnest.

He Tian closed the space between them, kissed him, and then let him go to bed, because he didn’t know what to say to that. He felt like he should be the one thanking Zhengxi. He’d saved his life when he saved Mo. He stood there, watching until Zhengxi made it through the door and into the dark bedroom. He heard Jian Yi’s tired voice welcoming Xi.

He Tian would make sure to change the bandages on Xi’s hands later. He’d let him sleep a bit more first.

He went into the living room, into the blue glow of the tv and crawled onto the couch until he was on all fours over Mo. Someday that horrible collar of bruises would fade away, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever stop seeing it when he looked at him—or thinking about what almost happened to him. He knew what it was like to be violated like that.

Mo woke up, brow pinching in the middle the way it did when he was confused. It looked angry—probably because he was always automatically angry when confused. His eyes opened, looking around and that crease relaxed when he saw He Tian over him. He smiled a little, cocky and sleepy still, and then the smile was gone and he looked around, worried now. “Xi…”

“He’s back in bed,” He Tian promised. “It’s done.”

Mo’s hand grabbed at the front of He Tian’s shirt. “Wh-What?”

“Help me make breakfast? You can sit there and tell me what to do.”

Mo stared at him for a long time, and then tears started filling his eyes. He Tian frowned and shook his head at his boyfriend. He didn’t have to say anything. He knew Mo was thinking about how it had been his fault—all of it. “It’s not,” He Tian said, arguing what wasn’t even put into words and kissing his face. “And it’s over and we’re here.”

Mo twisted his hand in the front of He Tian’s shirt, hanging on like there was any chance in the world that He Tian would ever leave him. He Tian scooped him up, laying down and holding the redhead to his chest on the couch. He let him cry for a while, wondering if he would fall asleep again, but he didn’t. He just settled eventually, laying there for a while longer until he gave that little sigh that his Momo always gave when he was ready to get up again—because he always got up again. It was one of the things all four of them had in common.

 


	19. Popsicle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut followed by some angsty conversation!

This wasn’t normal.

They’d survived and healed and started classes again at the university and Mo was working at some café for some reason and Zhengxi was at the gym pretty much whenever he wasn’t at school or asleep and no one had fucked anyone and Jian Yi was about to lose his mind.

He sat on the couch, glaring at another text from Xixi. Jian Yi had sent a dick pic and asked when he was coming home. Xi had replied with a shrug emoji and “eat without me”. What the fuck did that even mean? It definitely wasn’t how anyone should reply to a dick pic.

The front door opened and Mo called out a hello, stepping out of his shoes and then dumping his bag and his jacket on the nearest chair.

Jian Yi chewed his lip, watching the redhead go straight into the kitchen and start pulling out ingredients for dinner. “Hey, Momo?” Ji asked, rushing himself before he lost the nerve. “Have you and He Tian been having sex?”

Mo raised an eyebrow but kept pulling things from the refrigerator. “Huh?”

He whined, sitting across from him at the counter and holding out his phone with the text messages from Xixi. “What the fuck does this mean?”

Mo glanced over at it, huffed a little laugh and shrugged.

Jian Yi whined, dropping the phone on the counter. "Are we breaking up?" he burst.

Mo stopped, surprised, and stared at Jian Yi sitting across from him at the kitchen counter. "What are you talking about?"

Jian Yi whined. "It's been forever since everything that happened and no one is... You know... And everything is weird and..."

Mo's expression flatlined. He turned to the fridge and opened it, pulling out a popsicle and tossing it to Jian Yi.

The blond pouted at the dessert. "What the hell am I supposed to do with this?"

Mo shrugged, smirking. "Eat it. Suck it. Fuck it."

Jian Yi's eyes widened.

"You're horny. Just say it."

Jian Yi flushed, feeling his skin tight and his stomach clench the way it did whenever any of them said things like that to him. He liked dirty talk and it made him uncomfortable and being uncomfortable turned him on. "N-No I'm not."

Mo leaned against the other side of the counter, taking the popsicle from his hands. Instead of putting it back in the freezer, he pulled the wrapping off. It was blue and white and shaped kind of like a rocket, which was like saying it was shaped kind of like a dick. Because ALL popsicles were shaped kind of like dicks. Mo licked it and then started casually sucking all while staring at Jian Yi. He popped it out and said, "You want to be fucked. Just say it."

His tone was so hard that it made Jian Yi shiver, suddenly very aware of himself.

"Just say it," Mo said again and Jian Yi heard it then, that underlying heat in Mo's voice. "Just say you're a slut who wants to be fucked."

Jian Yi almost fell off his chair.

Mo sucked on the popsicle again, making wet sounds and all the while staring at Jian Yi.

He shivered again, standing out of his seat but still lingering there, his skin hot and his dick already throbbing. “N-No… I…”

Mo popped the icy treat out of his mouth and waved it at Jian Yi. “Take off your clothes and come over here.”

Jian Yi stared, breathless.

“Hurry up before I change my mind and go back to making dinner…”

Jian Yi whined before he could stop himself, stripping off his shirt and rounding the counter. He pushed his joggers down his hips and stepped out of them, blushing and looking away when he exposed his own erection.

Mo turned to watch him, leaning his back to the counter and still sucking on the popsicle. With his free hand, he flicked the fly of his jeans open, hips pushing forward and waiting expectantly. It sent a thrill through Jian Yi, his heart pounding in his chest. Mo got pushy sometimes, but he’d never quite done this before. Jian Yi shivered, naked while Mo was still fully clothed, and came over to finish opening the redhead’s pants and take out his semi-hard cock.

Mo continued to watch him with those stormy eyes, making Jian Yi’s skin hot. “Suck it if you want to get fucked,” the redhead said so indifferently, licking his popsicle.

Jian Yi swallowed a moan, his own cock painfully hard. He dropped to his knees between Mo’s legs, stroking his sex a few times before wrapping his mouth around him, sucking. He looked up through his lashes and groaned when those red eyes were still on him, somehow impassive—like it was someone else’s cock Jian Yi sucked.

Mo reached down, buried his fingers in the back of Jian Yi’s hair and started moving his head, fucking his mouth deeper, growing hard against his tongue. He let go but Jian Yi kept the pace, almost gagging himself on the other man’s sex.

“Look up, Ji,” Mo hummed.

Jian Yi swallowed around him, sucking and looking up through his lashes to see his own phone in Mo’s hand. Was he filming? Taking pictures? He whined around him.

Mo tapped something in the phone, grinning to himself before putting the phone back down. “Get up,” he ordered.

Jian Yi slurped and leaned back, popping Mo’s cock out of his mouth and panting. “Wh-What did you do?”

“Sent a reply to Xi,” Mo said casually.

Jian Yi sputtered, grabbing the phone from the counter and looking at it. Zhengxi had told him to eat without him. Mo had sent a video of Jian Yi sucking cock and the word “okay”.

Before Jian Yi could say anything about it, Mo pushed him forward, bending him over the counter. Jian Yi gasped when his sensitive sex pushed up against the hard, cold, counter. “Hnn!”

Mo pressed until Jian Yi’s chest was flat to the counter, and then used his knees to nudge his legs apart, spreading him. “Say it,” Mo said darkly, but his own pleasure rang in his voice now, husky, and Jian Yi felt his erection against his ass cheek.

“I-I… I want it…” he whispered, voice strained.

Jian Yi screamed and jumped when the cold, wet tip of the popsicle rubbed against him, pushing at his asshole. “M-Mo!” he cried, clinging to the other side of the counter and gasping when Mo pushed the popsicle against him until it started to slide inside. “Oh no… No… Oh…” he panted, thighs shaking.

“Say you’re a slut,” Mo pressed, moving the popsicle in and out, a little deeper each time.

Jian Yi whined. “N-No! I’m… I’m not!”

“You’re naked in the kitchen being fucked with a popsicle, Ji…” Mo taunted. “You’ve got three boyfriends and you’re still begging for cock.”

Jian Yi moaned, bumping his own hard on against the side of the counter, the popsicle cold and sticky and so deep inside him. “P-Please, Mo!” he cried, squirming.

“You know… if you take too long, some of this might break off inside you,” Mo said, smile in his voice. “Or I’ll just fuck you with this until it melts.”

Jian Yi whined. Mo wasn’t going to give in. He never gave in. Jian Yi gasped and cried, nodding wildly. “Y-Yes… Yes, I’m-I’m a sslut! I-I want it, Mo! Please!”

Mo groaned and slid the popsicle out of him, tossing it away into the sink and pressing his hard cock up against that tight, cold hole.

Jian Yi held his breath, so eager to be filled and fucked. He moaned loudly when Mo pushed into him, mashing his hips up against the counter. Mo grabbed Jian Yi’s hair, lifting his head and arching his back. Jian Yi cried out when Mo moved inside him. “Yes! Yes! Fuck!” Jian Yi panted. “Harder!” A part of his mind reeling that he’d actually said that, done any of this. He was just so wound up and Mo had been the last person he expected to drive him to this.

 

* * *

 

Mo moaned, one hand holding Jian Yi’s hip as he slammed harder into him, pushing him up onto his toes rather than into the hard edge of the counter—even now, careful not to actually hurt him. “Pick up your phone, Ji,” he said, surprised he even managed the words so steadily.

Jian Yi let out a thin whine, like he usually did when he was turned on and on edge and freaking himself out, but this one tapered off differently—not with the same frightened lilt but something close to excitement.

“Pick it up,” Mo panted, punctuating each word with a thrust of his hips.

Jian Yi grabbed his phone shakily, elbows to the counter.

Mo smiled, biting his lip. He only did this kind of role maybe once a year for He Tian. He hadn’t really planned to do any of it. A part of him had been so unsure if he even wanted to have sex again anytime soon, those memories of the cabin still flashing in his mind sometimes. “Send a video to He Tian,” he said.

Jian Yi’s whole body rattled with another cry. “I-I can’t…”

Mo kept a steady, slow rhythm. “Why not?”

“I… He… I’m not… I…” Jian Yi panted, incoherent.

Mo slid his hand around form the blonde’s hip to touch his sex, making sure Jian Yi was still as turned on as he sounded. He definitely was. He let out another thin sound and pushed his hips toward Mo’s hand. “Do it, Ji… Leave him a recording. Tell him when he comes home he can fuck you too,” he said, biting back his own moan at the way Jian Yi’s cock throbbed at the lewd words. “Or tell him you like it rough now.”

“No!” Jian Yi whined but slammed his hips back into Mo’s already hard thrust. “I-I can’t!”

Mo groaned. “You can do anything, Jian Yi. You crashed a fuckin’ car with a couple of thugs in it.” He felt the blonde’s body shudder again and then, before he could say anything else, Jian Yi was tapping the phone to life and holding it up. Mo was silently grateful. He wasn’t actually sure how much longer he could hold out like this.

 

* * *

 

He Tian sat on the bench in the empty locker room at the gym, fully dressed and legs crossed at the knee. His lips pressed, watching the little recording for at least the tenth time. Jian Yi was bent over a counter, biting into the back of his own wrist while someone—definitely Mo—fucked him from behind. The blond gasped, eyes glassy and said, “He… C-Come home and fuck me.” It sent a chill right down his spine every time, making him semihard.

The far away sound of a shower turned off and He Tian looked up from his phone just in time to see the gym’s last member leave the tiles and steam and cross the room. Zhengxi paused for a second, obviously surprised to see him there, before he continued toward him and his locker opposite He Tian.

“Since when do you gym here?”

He Tian snorted once. “I don’t. But a membership here is about the same as locker rentals at my gym so…”

Zhengxi nodded and turned his back on He Tian, a towel around his waist, and opened his locker. He dressed like he didn’t feel He Tian watching him, mapping his naked body. It had been a while since he saw it completely stripped down. Zhengxi had lost weight. He still wasn’t allowed to do anything too strenuous with his hands, so he could only run at the gym. They weren’t bandaged anymore but the deep bruises on his knuckles and fingers had taken so long to fade and the gashes around his wrists were thick, glossy scars—barely healed over.

“You know that our boyfriends are at home screwing each other’s brains out, right?” He Tian asked when Xi had pulled on his briefs and a pair of clean pants. Zhengxi glanced back at him, that perfectly impassive expression on. “And when they’re done, they’ll probably make us dinner next,” he continued. Something like regret crept into Xi’s eyes then. “So, you and I are probably the luckiest bastards on this planet and yet… we’re here.”

Xi rolled his eyes back to his locker, fishing out a clean shirt. “No one invited you.”

“You’re avoiding us.”

Xi turned around, honestly surprised. “No. I’m not. We had lunch today…”

“You don’t come home until late and you leave as soon as you can. If it’s the apartment you don’t like, I’ll find us a new one, but I doubt that’s it…”

“It’s not. It’s nothing.”

“You’re not sleeping with anyone.” He saw the moment Xi inhaled to argue. “Fucking, I mean. You’re not fucking anyone.”

That mouth snapped shut for a second, jaw flexing and those dark blue eyes boring into him angrily. “Is it a requirement?”

“No. Of course not—”

“What if I never want to fuck? What if this is it? What then?” It started off full of temper but his words quieted toward the end, like a real question he hadn’t been prepared to ask.

He Tian rose to his feet, sliding his phone back into his pocket. “What are you talking about?”

Xi scrubbed a hand over his head, shaking wet hair. “Nothing.” He shook his head, turning back toward his locker.

He Tian caught him by the arm, pulling him back. “No. That’s not nothing,” he said as gently as he could. He hadn’t been raised gentle, but he’d learned to be over years of trying to build trust with Mo.

Xi wouldn’t look at him, jaw still ticking angrily and head shaking tightly. “I can’t. I just…” His breaths came in faster, a tremor shaking his body and his eyes pressing shut. “Forget it,” he tried, the words thin like he was suddenly winded. One hand came up to claw at his wet hair again, shaking.

He Tian stared. Was he having a panic attack? They had all noticed something off with Zhengxi. He hadn’t bounced back the way the rest of them had. The bruises were fading but that look in his eyes wasn’t. They had all decided to give him space and wait. Maybe that hadn’t been the right thing after all.

His breathing was still labored when he swallowed hard and lifted his head, unseeing when he pushed He Tian gently away. “You go back first, I-I’m going to jog a little and then—”

“You already jogged. You just showered,” He Tian cut in, honestly scared now. Had he forgotten or was he literally trying to run away from whatever he was feeling?

Zhengxi closed his eyes again, squeezed them shut hard and swayed on his feet.

He Tian swore almost silently under his breath, hands going to Xi’s sides and turning him gently, sitting him down on the bench and crouching in front of him. He wouldn’t let go, afraid he might pass out. “Okay. Xi, open your eyes,” he said as gently as he could. “Take deep breaths and look at me.”

After a few seconds the blond managed to do it, those dark blue eyes swimming in tears but focused on He Tian. He struggled to drag in even breaths but he was doing it.

“Is this because of She Li?” He Tian asked gently. They had killed a man—not such a huge deal in his own family but he understood that Zhengxi had not been raised like him.

“What?” Xi’s brow pinched and then he almost laughed, one of those tears overflowing his lashes. “No. I…” he swallowed hard, trying to look away. “I just can’t.”

“Can’t?” He Tian prompted.

Zhengxi cringed. “I keep seeing it—hearing it,” he whispered, barely audible, and He Tian was grateful they were alone in the locker rooms, because if he had missed the words he wasn’t sure Xi would say them again.

He felt a wash of cold. “You mean what happened at the cabin?”

Xi’s lips pulled in a snarl but he nodded tightly. “I have to wear myself out or I can’t sleep… I just keep seeing it and hearing that guy. And I know Jian Yi is worried—” he went on, and He Tian didn’t correct him that they were _all_ worried. “He wants to fool around and I try to but then I keep seeing it and hearing the shit that guy was saying and the way Mo was choking and he called him Red,” he rambled, the words rushing out now that he finally started. “I used to call him Red and that guy was…” His breathing was too fast again and for a second his eyes lost focus.

He Tian rubbed his sides, always ready to catch him. “Breathe,” he reminded and they stayed like that for a few minutes, just breathing.

Eventually, Zhengxi shuddered out a deep breath and leaned back against the lockers behind him, eyes opening, tired but here again. “If I can’t…” he started and then cringed, looking away. “If I can’t get my shit together. You and Mo would look after Jian Yi, right?” The question was such a hurt whisper that He Tian felt the pain of it in his own chest. He didn’t know what Xi meant. He didn’t want to know. Of course they would always take care of Jian Yi. But that promise sounded like a goodbye and that wasn’t possible because they would also always be there for Zhengxi.

“When we were in that cabin, you gave me a head start and tried to fight everyone all by yourself. And I locked the bedroom door and made Mo and Jian Yi go out the window to make a run for it,” He Tian said instead of answering, feeling the sting of tears in his own eyes. “Do you remember how they got me to open that door?”

Xi blinked at him, brow slowly creasing. “I thought they broke it…” he said, but the confusion in his eyes suggested it was a foggy memory in a long night.

He Tian shook his head, looking up at him. “San said I had backups, extra hostages, and made me think he’d shot you right there in the hall. You were unconscious on the floor and I for a second I thought you were dead—that I’d lost you. And, even after everything else that happened, all the shitty things, that was the single worst moment of it all. Because there’s no fixing any of it, if we’re not all together.”

Zhengxi stared at him for a long while, thoughts behind those blue eyes turning over options and possibilities or maybe just going over that night again.

“And do you remember, at the hospital,” He Tian continued. “I almost didn’t get in the car and you came over and told me, _we’re alive_ and to get you home.”

Xi nodded slowly.

He Tian cupped his face in his hands and held that blue gaze. “Well, we’re alive. And I am going to get you home.”

The blond exhaled and leaned his face into one of He Tian’s hands, nodding into it. “I don’t know why I can’t shake it,” he confessed, quiet. “Everyone else…”

“Everyone handles their damage differently,” He Tian promised, relieved that Zhengxi was leaning into him rather than away from him. “Jian Yi told you about when I was a kid right? When I got kidnapped?”

Zhengxi tensed, thoughts turning, and it was a relief to see some of the Xi he recognized. The one considering all the dynamics of their relationships before answering tensely, “He wasn’t gossiping. He just doesn’t know how to keep secrets from me. He’s been telling me every thought he has since we were kids…”

He Tian smiled a little and nodded. He had assumed Jian Yi would tell Zhengxi. He would never have told Jian Yi anything he couldn’t tell his boyfriend. “I know. It’s okay. But I’m telling you from experience, that those thoughts—the memories—that you think you’ll never get to stop playing on repeat in your head, they go away eventually. They get replaced by new, better things and they fade out. Yeah, you’ll always be able to find them in your head somewhere, waiting to drag you back if you let them, but it won’t feel like it does right now. So, stop running?”

Zhengxi was quiet for a few seconds before nodding. “Okay,” he said and then gave He Tian’s chest a little shove, pushing him back so he could stand. He returned to his locker while He Tian rose to his feet too, watching Xi pull on a clean shirt and step into his shoes. He grabbed a hoodie and his bag and paused to look at He Tian. “Take me home?”

He Tian pressed back a smile and flung an arm over Xi’s shoulders, walking him out of the gym. “You should really switch to my gym,” he said conversationally.

“Why? It’s the same machines.”

He Tian wrinkled his nose. “But better.”

“More expensive doesn’t mean better.”

“ _I’m_ more expensive…” He Tian countered and Xi shot him a raised brow, all the argument he needed.


End file.
